


Les Chroniques de Constance

by Miss_Von_Cheese



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017), Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types
Genre: Bisexuality, Boundaries, Bullying, F/M, Fluff, Gastanfou, Getting Together, Healthy Relationships, Illustrations, Insecure Gaston, Internalized Misogyny, Kissing, M/M, Misgendering, Misunderstandings, Multi, Pampering, Protective guys, Relationship Discussions, Romance, Shaving, Threesome, Trans Female Character, Trans Stanley, Transitioning, Transphobia, accidental misgendering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2018-12-03 18:37:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 49,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11538102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Von_Cheese/pseuds/Miss_Von_Cheese
Summary: Various illustrated short stories about Stanley, becoming Constance, and her two lovers.





	1. Pourvu qu'elle soit douce

The very second Constance walked into LeFou’s house, Gaston could feel the determination in her steps. Holding a bag on her shoulder she closed the door, looked at him with her pretty little nose pointed up, and assured in a convincing tone, “I want to do it. Today.” 

She then let out a loud sigh and quickly sat on a chair as her legs threatened to give up under her. She looked at him, anxiously waiting for a reaction that came quickly.

“Constance... This is great news!” Gaston smiled. A wide, touched, sincere smile. The glowing face of a supportive friend. Even though she hoped for a nice reaction she still was relieved to get it.

Constance came to the house every day to help LeFou take care of Gaston; the fall from the castle tower hadn’t been easy to recover from. Weeks had turned into months. Winter had come, followed by spring. 

She had come first after the ball in honor of Belle and Adam to get news from her dear friend LeFou, and had quickly realized how important Gaston was to him. In the name of their blooming friendship, she decided to help them the best she could. For weeks she had stayed at home with the wounded hunter while LeFou was out, she helped with the bandages, the lotions, the stitches, even ran errands for them when needed. Now that Gaston was finally back on his feet for good, she always found a good reason to visit: she cooked for them, she cleaned the house, took care of the horses or of anything that could be of any help. Anything so that she stayed with them and lived the way she wanted. 

Because when the door closed and the village was left behind, she always ran to one of the empty bedrooms to put on a simple yet lovely everyday dress borrowed at the castle, then she delighted in their company all day long. They called her by her favorite name, Constance, they said “she” and “her”, they held the door for her and treated her with care. They acted around her like she was a lady, not some provincial girl. She often wished that in the secret of their home this beautiful friendship turned into something more, but in these moments she remembered what a sinner she already was. Besides, they were not remotely interested in her: they saw her as a younger sister, and as she discovered when she caught them kissing, they shared a bond she couldn’t break nor ever be a part of. 

With hope in her heart, Constance looked at Gaston who was still smiling at her. His eyes crinkled, showing genuine happiness. She was on her way to the bedroom to put on her new dress when he exclaimed, “Your boy’s gait is long gone, you already walk like a girl with your breeches. Get rid of them, those legs are made for dresses!” 

Constance closed the door, cheeks burning with pleasure. Belle didn’t like Gaston’s attentions when she was still around but the way he talked to her, about her, complimented her like any other girl felt too good for Constance to reject. Her eccentric moves -like that day she danced with LeFou at the ball- were never greeted with acceptance, so being acknowledged as a pretty woman by such a man as Gaston felt like a blessing. He knew his way around women, right? He would know a beautiful one when he saw her, and to what end would he lie if he didn’t mean it?

A few minutes later she stormed out of the guestroom, the ribbons of her dress rustling around her. It was not a ball gown but it was fancier than the cheap dresses she usually wore at home. Madame de Garderobe even ordered the prettiest laces from Montmirail just for her but given her situation, she had made sure Constance could dress up on her own. 

Constance carefully stepped into her friends’ bedroom to look at herself in the tall mirror of their cabinet. Of course they owned a mirror, a large one, for Gaston needed to admire his own reflection, and LeFou had to make sure he looked as handsome and stylish as usual. Why it was in their bedroom, right in front of the bed, really not the most practical place, remained a mystery to her.

Constance hesitantly walked to it but Gaston was at the door before she even had a chance to look at herself. He gloated, “ _Mon Dieu_ , you are gorgeous, milady!” 

She blushed, smiled and looked down, flexing her legs in a small bow. How courteous he could be! “Thank you, _mon ami_.” 

Heart racing under the seams of her corsage, she took a deep breath and looked at herself. She honestly found that she looked as pretty as she felt. The warm pink tones of the fabric and contrasting white laces complimented her skin, the corsage slightly shaped her chest and the ribbons at her waist made her hips look wider. She looked more feminine than ever. The sensation was wonderful, exhilarating even. As if Agathe herself had used her magic on her. Constance couldn't contain a chuckle as she did a quick pirouette in front of the mirror to look at the way the fabric embraced her body. 

However, her smile faded when she looked at her own face and was quickly replaced with a frown, a curious pout. Gaston walked to her, visibly concerned.

“What is going on? Don’t you like it?” 

“I-- I don’t know,” Constance sighed. “I love the dress. I really do, but something is… off?” 

Gaston looked up and down her reflection with one of his signature smirk. “Off? Well, all I see is a beautiful gentleman in elegant clothes, and a lady who looks just as stunning as he does.” 

Constance smiled as he added, “Ah… LeFou would swoon if he saw us like this!” 

Sometimes she wished she had his confidence, his impressive self-esteem, but she knew that if she had been supported by someone as devoted as LeFou for years, she might have felt the same --and most importantly, all of Gaston’s assurance hid much darker feelings she had only got a glimpse of. She looked at her reflection again, played with the frills of her sleeves. 

She then ran her fingers over her jawline, her chin. And it hit her. “Should I shave? Ah… _oui c'est ça_ !”

She couldn't help looking at Gaston to get his opinion. What he thought mattered to her because he had never been anything but supportive of her transformation. He did not call her a pervert or a depraved _inverti_ as some had, but a _papillon tout juste éclos_ and other sweet descriptives. 

“I find you a really attractive lady,” Gaston assured. “And I do not mind whether you shave or not. How it would feel to you is what matters to me.” 

Constance brushed her thick sideburns. She had loved them, loved how they made her look more adult when she tried to blend in with the men of the village. They were a part of her identity as much as her victory rolls. Now her identity was changing, she was revealing even to herself who she was deep inside, and that new person was appeased. At peace. Not always ladylike but defiantly feminine. 

“Yes,” she mused. “Yes, I would prefer without.” She smiled, satisfied with her decision but immediately opened wide eyes. “Oh, no! I…” 

Gaston placed a gentle hand on her arm to ask what was bothering her. Constance felt her cheeks turn crimson red as she looked away, embarrassed with her own inexperience. 

“I… I have never… Tom and Dick always helped me out, I never did that on my own.” She wanted to run and hide in a mouse hole. Oh, how she must have looked stupid in front of Gaston! The man had been to war, overseas, he probably started shaving before she was even born! 

“Oh, really?” 

“I just can't ask them,” Constance sighed. “I don't even know how they will…” Her voice faded in her throat as she imagined all the possible outcomes. She took a deep breath and gathered the courage to ask, “Would you…”

“Of course!” Gaston immediately smiled. “This would be my pleasure to shave you, _mon amie_.”

Constance’s eyes flew wide open. “Ah, uh… _pardon_?” 

“Was it not your request?” 

“No, no I would never!” Constance squeaked, placing her hands on her cheeks. “I could never ask this from you, I don’t want to be a bother. You and LeFou have been so good to me! I just wanted you to teach me.” 

Gaston looked at her with an undescriptible smile, then removed her hands from her cheeks to hold them in his. “A bother? Oh _ma douce amie_ , how could you ever be a bother to us… to me? You tended to me when I could barely walk, you took care of my wounds. You bathed me when I was feverish and sweaty, you fed me when I was too exhausted.”

His voice was shaking slightly as he stepped closer. “You are a blessing, _un ange gardien_ , Constance. And I don't want you to think there’s anything we could refuse you. Do you want me to take care of it? It would be my absolute pleasure!”

Constance was torn. She really wanted to prove herself worthy, despite her youth she was a grown woman, she had to know how to care for herself. However, Gaston seemed genuinely glad to help and she didn’t want to ruin her face today nor let a cut threaten her motivation. She chewed on her lower lip for a while then nodded. 

“Okay, I would be so grateful to get your help.” 

“Fine!” Gaston exclaimed with a grin. “Let me get my tools!” 

Constance followed him to the living room. He seemed excited and happy that she agreed? Did she look that awful with facial hairs? 

Gaston cleared a big chair for her, took a large purse from the wall and started heating water in a pot. “Here, help yourself, get comfortable while I prepare everything!” he invited. 

Constance sat on the chair, unsure what to do with her hands--as well as her whole body. Tom and Dick were always nice when they shaved her but never that cautious. Gaston looked like he prepared for a hunt. He took a long razor out of its sheath with a triumphant smile, then tilted it in front of the window to inspect its sharpness. His nose scrunched and with a soft “Hm, hm!” he shook his head.

Constance folded her hands in her lap, fascinated by his every move. He took a large and rather used strop from his purse, secured it on a chair top then started to sharpen the blade with long, precise strokes. Constance observed the muscles in his arms as they slightly flexed, his eyes were focused, nostrils flared in concentration. He looked… beautiful. Constance wanted to look away because Gaston, sweet and manly Gaston belonged to LeFou only. She was not falling for him. For neither of them both. She was just looking. At those large hands working in unison, holding the leather tightly, fingers gripping the razor. Hands that would touch her in a few minutes. 

Constance shivered. She shouldn’t have felt so emotional. Gaston stopped for a second to remove the pot from fire then started his razor dance again. He moved like a cat and, lost in contemplation, Constance forgot for a while it was all about her. She just enjoyed the show, his soft huffs, the sweep of the blade. She almost startled when Gaston straightened his back, razor pointed in the air.

“Good,” he muttered. “Now to you, _mademoiselle_.”

He placed the water next to her then carefully arranged a cloth around her neck, following the collar of her dress. Constance blushed. She had never noticed how soft his calloused hands could be. Nervous, she arched her back but Gaston encouraged her to relax. With quick gestures he prepared soap in a bowl. He then folded another cloth to dip it in water before he gently applied it to her face. The warm feeling of wet cloth against her skin made her let out a deep sigh. So comforting. Relaxing even. She leaned back in the chair and tilted her head to give him better access.

“You’ve been so good to me,” Gaston stated as he smeared soap on her cheeks. “I wish I could show you how much I lo--... how grateful I am.” 

His fingers were gentle, covering her jaw, her chin with smelly cream. Gaston ran them all the way up to her temples, her ears then down her throat, below her Adam's apple. When Tom and Dick did it, she felt like a piece of brioche being buttered, but with Gaston she felt precious. A soft massage taking all her troubles away. He carefully insisted on all the parts that made her melt between his hands. 

“Don’t move, _ma colombe_ ,” he demanded in a low tone, almost a whisper. 

His strong hands maneuvered her so that she tilted her head back against the seat. Standing behind her, he brought the razor close to her skin. “Are you ready?” 

Constance’s eyes flew open. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she looked at him from underneath, his face was so close. The sharp blade rested against her throat, Gaston gently held her head in place, and Constance wondered if this was what it felt like to be a doe trapped in the hunter’s deadly embrace. And why she enjoyed it so much. 

Gaston ran the razor up her throat, followed her chin. Once. Twice. His face was still, emotionless, his eyes focused. A wrinkle separated his brows and his lips were slightly parted. Constance blinked then closed her eyes. She was sitting still but her body, her heart, and her mind were overstepping boundaries. She had wondered several times what LeFou could see in Gaston that had him so smitten but now she understood. She saw, she felt it. Her bottom lip quivered when expert fingers brushed against her skin. The soft burn of the razor spread to her jaw, contrasting with the softness of gentle hands.

His breath, so close, brushed against her nose. She could smell his perfume and the cider he had drank earlier. One moment his breath fell onto her lips and her heart suddenly was too big for her chest. Constance gripped the arms of the chair. Was she… _amoureuse_? No, that couldn't be. Not when she cherished their friendship so much, not when she admired his romantic love with LeFou, the most strange and complex love she had ever witnessed in her (oh, so young) life.

She relaxed when Gaston asked her to, suddenly able to obey soft orders. The warmed up blade brushed against her adam's apple, against the pulsing vein in her throat, a thrilling sensation. She trusted him, his gentle touch and the soft humming sounds he made. Gaston soon started shaving the sides of her face, and despite the slight heat caused by the razor, she felt lighter and cooler now that the thick sideburns were raining onto her shoulders. He followed the curves of her cheekbones, almost all the way up her temples, a few times until he was satisfied. 

After a few minutes that felt like hours, and yet definitely too short, Constance finally felt all the soap was gone, leaving her skin warm and smooth. Gaston carefully cleaned her up and she dared open her eyes, only for her face to be covered with a warm wet cloth. She melted in the chair with a purr. Heaven had landed on her face. She felt so relaxed, putty even. She wanted to sleep. The sound of a cork opening took her out of her blissful state, she looked as Gaston took some perfume on his fingers and smeared it all over her freshly shaved skin. The alcohol stung a bit but she noticed the smell, it was a woman’s fragrance! Constance couldn't contain a happy grin. 

“Details matter,” Gaston stated as he saw her surprised look.

She felt so much lighter now! As if the few hairs on her face had contained the weight of her past life. It was like slipping into comfortable shoes after wearing the wrong ones for so long-- and she did, literally. Gaston took her hand to escort her back to the large mirror.

Constance had a hard time recognizing herself at first sight. Shy and introvert Stanley was long gone, the young lady hidden for too long in his heart was out. And proud. And terrified. She searched for her makeup in the bag and quickly painted her lips a shiny bright red. She turned to Gaston, not sure to understand why his face was flushed. 

“I know… I don’t look half as good as my sisters, but…” she started to apologize, driven by her insecurities.

“Not half as good, no,” Gaston interrupted her with a smile. “Twice as good no less.” 

He turned her towards the mirror again with a childish grin. His enthusiasm was contagious and seemingly hard to contain. “You’re like a _papillon_ who stayed for too long in its chrysalid. Now time has come to spread your wings, _belle enfant_.” 

Constance took a deep breath, her chest poking out. “Yes, I will. Thank you so much!” 

She walked to the living room, followed by Gaston. “No need to thank me. I remember every single time you cheered for me when LeFou danced at the tavern, now it's my turn to cheer for you!” 

Constance found the courage to squeeze his hands in hers. His strong yet soft hands that had been so kind to her. She was about to gather her strength and go out, on her own, for the very first time, when the door opened on their dear friend LeFou. He stepped into the room, his eyes widened, and his mouth formed a perfect “o” shape. 

“Ooooh,” he cooed. “What have we got here?” 

He skipped to them, feet barely touching the ground, excited and almost about to dance across the room. Constance looked down, cheeks even rosier. 

“This is new, do you like it?” 

“If I like it?” LeFou exclaimed with emphasis. “I love it! Those fabrics, those colors… what a _belle dame_ in our humble house!” 

Constance tried to follow as he spun around her like a fly searching for a candle’s light. She froze when a chubby hand brushed her cheek. “And here… I already thought you looked pretty before, but now that I can see better the beautiful shape of your face… I am smitten. What a good idea you had!” 

And before she had time to even think of a reply, LeFou raised on his toes and planted a quick kiss on her cheekbone. Constance blinked in surprise. Now that was unexpected!

“To which occasion do we owe the pleasure?” LeFou asked again, all eyes on her.

“I’m going out,” Constance announced, heart beating fast just as it did every time she thought about that step. “Maybe to buy fruits at the market, or just go for a stroll.” 

The beautiful brown eyes widened. LeFou gave Gaston a quick glance then placed a hand on Constance’s arm. “I’m coming with you!” He then added as she tried to pull away, “Please… let me.” 

Constance saw the flash of fear in his worried look. She couldn't deny she had thought about the consequences of her decision. All the possible hurtful consequences. She had spent her whole life following others, wondering what they would think of her, now she only knew how people reacted to difference. She was sincerely touched that her friends cared so much about her, that they were just as afraid for her.

“Actually, this might be a good idea, _mon ami!_ ” Constance smiled. 

LeFou couldn't contain a relieved grin. “Good! Come with me, _ma beauté_.” 

Constance waved at Gaston who could barely hide his anxiety behind a small smile. “ _À tout à l’heure_!”

“Have a nice… walk,” Gaston replied gingerly. 

Constance stepped outside of the house, closed her eyes for a second. The sun felt like a caress on her exposed skin, a soft breeze made her ribbons frill. The sounds of the village came to her ears: birds singing, people talking, cows and horses moving around. She was there. Out of her cage. She remembered Gaston’s word and spread her arms to feel how her body stretched in her corsage. LeFou offered his forearm so she took it without thinking before they started walking towards the street. 

As they crossed the fence, Constance slightly shook her head in confusion. “ _Mon ami_ , aren’t you worried people would get the wrong idea when we’re holding arms? They might think…” 

“Think? Oh they don’t do it so often, don’t worry,” LeFou replied with a smirk. 

Constance could tell he was nervous too. She chuckled at his joke, as always touched by his witty spirit. “No, I mean that they could think we are… romantically involved?” 

LeFou stopped dead in his tracks then slowly turned his head towards her, looking up to her. “Aren’t we?” 

His wide eyes only reflected the deepest confusion and Constance’s heart shattered at his little pout. “A--are we?” she stuttered. “But… Gaston?” 

Despite the sincere attraction she felt for the handsome gentleman they all named LeFou, she wanted anything but to separate him from his long time lover. LeFou gave the house a quick glance. “Well, he and I had a feeling we were both… you visit us every day, you take such good care of us. We were talking about it just this morning, wondering which one of us should eventually be your legal husband to give you protection…” 

Constance’s breath caught in her throat and she couldn't help squeezing the tender forearm in her hand. A mean little voice in her head blamed her for misleading men into thinking she wanted them, or worse, that she was wife material. What a bad girl she was. Yet, could she really say that she didn’t want them? 

“Oh! I should go back and warn Gaston that there was a confusion,” LeFou grumbled. “He was going to order a…” 

“Why don’t we go for this walk instead?” Constance said with a warm smile. “I have to think about it for a while. Will you be my _chevalier servant_ for today?” 

LeFou raised his head and promised with a grin, “For as long as you please _mademoiselle_!” 

As they walked towards the village Constance wondered how love could be such a simple yet complicated thing. Confusing and beautiful, so strange and comfortable. Fate had a twisted sense of humor. Two boyfriends just for her? She didn’t hate that idea at all…

Mon Dieu = my God  
Mon ami = my friend  
Oui c'est ça = Yes, that’s it!  
Inverti = old. Homosexual  
Papillon tout juste éclos = Newly hatched butterfly  
Pardon ? = I’m sorry? Excuse me?  
Ma douce amie = My sweet friend  
Un ange gardien = A guardian angel  
Mademoiselle = Miss  
Ma colombe = My dove  
Amoureuse= In love  
Papillon = Butterfly  
Belle enfant = Sweet child  
Belle dame = Beautiful lady  
Ma beauté = Pretty one  
A tout à l’heure = See you later  
Chevalier servant = Knight in a shining armor, suitor... 


	2. La dame de nos pensées

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter, our boys talk about their girl with heart eyes...

The night was still young. As a red sun set behind the hills, Villeneuve slowly surrendered to darkness. The streets emptied and the house windows lightened up, one by one. Gaston and LeFou both escorted their belle to the fence surrounding their garden, all of their loyal dogs watching from a distance.

“Are you really sure you don’t want us to walk you back home?” Gaston offered, a hand on her back.

Constance shook her head and pointed at her house down the street. “You can see my door from here, _mes amours_ , trust me, I’ll be fine.” 

LeFou nodded, tenderly wrapped his arms around her waist. Gaston looked as they smiled, lost into each other’s eyes like doves in a tree. Evening goodbyes were the worst part of the day. It felt like letting go of a piece of themselves now that Constance was comfortably settled into their life. None of them wanted her to leave but they also cared about her too much to risk rushing things by keeping her home at night. They shared a long bittersweet hug, then LeFou booped her nose and blew a kiss towards her face. 

Constance looked down with a precious smile. She left the comfortable embrace and Gaston gingerly leaned in to kiss the back of her hand. It felt cold and rushed next to LeFou’s warm goodbye but Gaston was sincerely confused and lost. 

He placed his arm around LeFou’s shoulders, laid his chin on top of his lover’s head. They both waved at Constance who blew a kiss in their direction, then didn’t miss a second of her walk back home. Her pink silhouette got smaller and smaller down the street, hips balancing right and left as she hurried, she brought a hand to her face to hide a giggle when she stopped at her door and noticed they were still staring. As soon as the door closed behind her, the light of candles appeared at the windows, and her two boyfriends reluctantly left their observation spot by the fence. They walked back to their house as the last rays of sun disappeared behind the hills. 

“I despise these moments,” LeFou said with a loud sigh as he hung his vest by the door. “I wish… I wish she were always with us.” 

Gaston slumped onto a large chair, one leg propped up on the armrest. “So do I, my love. So do I!” 

LeFou opened a cupboard, cut himself a piece of bread he generously topped with _fourme d’Ambert_ , then brought his snack back along with white grapes. They already had dinner tonight but Gaston was not going to complain because LeFou eating his bad thoughts away was a sad yet adorable sight. He opened his arms to make room for his lover who settled comfortably between his legs. 

After a long moment sharing grapes in silence, Gaston removed the velvet ribbon that held his lover’s hair and ran his fingers through the luxurious locks. 

“Tell you what, _amour_ , I would have never thought you were interested in women,” he started. “I really thought you only fancied men.” 

LeFou shifted in his arms, licking the last crumbs from his fingers. “Oh…” He smirked then stated matter-of-factly, “I don’t think I’m into women.”

After a short confusing pause he added, “Not that I’m into men either.” 

Now Gaston was deeply confused and wondering if the chubby candy he called his _chéri_ was messing with him. He ruffled his lover’s bow with an amused grin. “Yeah, sure… I’ll think about that when you worship my cock like it’s the seventh uh... or eighth wonder of the world.” 

“Hmmm it is,” LeFou chuckled, nuzzling Gaston’s throat. “But I mean it, love. I’ve never been familiar with these kinds of attractions… before.” 

“Before?” 

LeFou wiggled to find the most comfortable place in Gaston’s lap, and his lover delighted in the pressure all over his body. He then folded his hands on his full belly and explained like an old man telling tales, “As a young lad I wouldn't court the girls, you might remember how shy and introvert I was…”

“A long time ago indeed,” Gaston agreed.

“I never found myself in love with any girl nor boy. I sometimes wondered if I was unable to love, maybe I was too egoist, too self-centered to love someone else?” 

Gaston suppressed a deep sigh; he tightened his embrace around his _bien-aimé_ , saddened to witness all the doubts hidden behind his apparent confidence. 

“But then… I got to know you,” LeFou purred. “And you were the best thing to come into my life.” 

“Sometimes the worst,” Gaston mused, heart aching with regrets. It had taken some time for his dearest friend to forgive him, yet he knew it would be much longer until he would forgive himself for everything he had done, especially to the love of his life.

LeFou shrugged. “Sometimes the worst. I’m no picnic either. I still fell in love though, and it was an evidence that I was attracted, at the very least, by one man. In my heart there’s always been only one lighthouse to guide me: you.” 

Gaston buried his face in his partner’s soft hair, inhaled his perfect scent. “I don’t deserve to be talked to like this. I don’t deserve your devotion, _mon tendre ami_.” 

“My devotion belongs to me,” LeFou replied with a soft sigh. “It is mine to decide to whom it goes.”

They both remained silent for a few minutes, sharing light touches and tiny kisses, before he spoke again.

“Then all my certitudes were washed away by our lovely lady… Stanley was a handsome guy, a nice fellow, but Constance…” LeFou let out a dreamy sigh. “Constance. The way she walks, the way she moves… her smile, and her voice, and her everything!” 

Gaston nodded solemnly. He shared this sentiment all too well even though he lacked the proper words to talk about their beautiful lady. 

“I like her mind, she’s fun and witty. She’s as kind as she’s pretty. She’s free spirited,” LeFou enumerated again. “She makes me laugh and smile, and when I see disappointment on her brow I want to throw myself off a cliff. Her cheeks were drawn by Italian masters, her lips were carved in Heaven...” 

A shared groan resonated between them as they both thought about her sensual face. 

“She’s the first to make me want to be a lady’s man. I want to be hers, make her happy. Whatever she needs I want to give it to her and even more…” LeFou admitted before he added, a hand on Gaston’s cheek, “I am so glad we got to share these feelings, I would have been lost if I had had to choose.” 

Gaston shrugged and rolled his eyes to avoid thinking too hard about the many other possibilities. Had they not found a balance altogether, there would have been pain and broken hearts instead of happy lunches by the river. 

“Therefore, I am neither interested in men nor women,” LeFou concluded happily. “But only in Constance and you. Which is quite a fulfilling situation, believe me.” 

“And we are so lucky to have you,” Gaston whispered like a prayer against the shell of his ear. “Even though I have loved women before, Constance is different. She makes me feel things that I can’t find the words to explain. It’s so frustrating!” 

“Why are you frustrated?” LeFou enquired as he straightened up and sat on the chair, leaning against the armrest. 

Gaston shook his head, shoulders tensed, the shadow of a frown over his brow. “I… I don’t know, I can’t tell. I feel like I cannot give her what she deserves.” His gaze followed LeFou’s curves, all the way up to his eyes. “Teach me your ways!”

“I’m sorry?” LeFou blinked in surprise.

“Please…” Gaston sighed. “Constance… she makes me feel incompetent. With her I have the sensation I don’t know how to please a woman. I see all the things you do to her, the soft caresses, the gentleness. I feel like I won’t be able to give her what she needs. I can’t be as forward and rough with her as I am with you. She needs a prince, a gentleman and I am an id-- a hunter.” 

His voice died in his throat, words falling like a death sentence at the dawning sensation he wasn't good enough for her. LeFou looked up to him with a grin. 

“What on Earth makes you think you should change for her? You are exactly the man she fell in love with, Gaston, and I’m sure she wouldn't have you any other way.” 

“Belle wouldn't have me at all,” Gaston sighed. “She hated my courtship. What the hell did I do wrong?” 

“You are not the man you used to be. And Constance is a radically different lady than Belle.” LeFou used his fingers to tilt his lover’s chin up. “Have you ever seen the way she looks at you? Women didn’t gaze upon Apollo himself the way Constance looks at you. Every time you compliment her she turns bright pink, and when you embrace her from behind she’s red as a strawberry.” 

“Does she?” Gaston repeated incredulously. He had a hard time seeing what LeFou saw. Their past experiences had shaped very differently their perceptions of the world. 

LeFou kissed the tip of his nose, his breath sweet and savoury. “Perhaps does she want something else from you, she might want you to be different around her but then… why don’t you just wait for her to tell you what her heart truly desires? Instead of dwelling in silence, ask her what she needs and how you could give it to her.” 

Both men chuckled and their foreheads bumped as they appreciated the double-entendre. Gaston planted his mouth on his lover’s, forced the soft lips with his tongue until LeFou let out a loud encouraging moan to beg for more. The devouring kiss became sloppy, hurried; tongues rolled and teeth nibbled, as dirty and passionate as their usual lovemaking. 

After a few long minutes that left them hot, shivering and ready for more, Gaston placed his nose against his lover’s temple. “This… is not suitable for a lady like Constance. Not at all.” 

“Oh, what does that make me then?” LeFou giggled against his throat. “ _Ta petite putain_?” 

It took Gaston all of his self control not to push LeFou down on the floor and possessively mark his territory with his whole body. He took a deep breath. Urged his heart to calm down. 

“I don’t know… I don’t think she would want to be treated this way, I can only imagine… speculate…” Gaston shook his head in frustration. “I don’t know how to express what I’m feeling LeFou! I hate that!” 

Oh so tenderly, LeFou shifted so that Gaston could lay his head on his chest, then wrapped him in a warm, comforting embrace. He brushed his hair with his fingers, and once more the man everyone thought a fool because he couldn't read spoke wisdom. 

“Maybe this doesn't have to do with what you think she could desire, but more with what you think she deserves,” he mused quietly. “This is not about what she might like, even though I don’t see her being as crass as we can become on a good day…” 

Both men chuckled because no, no girl could ever be that dirty in the bedroom, right? 

“... this is about how you want to treat her. I understand that feeling my love, trust me. I understand it all too well. When it comes to you, I want to treat you like the naughty boy you are,” LeFou explained, fingers all over his friend’s face. “Get you on all fours, from behind, pull your hair and slap your ass while you howl like a wolf…”

Gaston jokingly raised an eyebrow. “Now that sounds like a plan!” 

“But Constance? Sweet and precious Constance? She makes me feel protective. I want to shield her from this world. I want to steal kisses under the porch and brush her hair in the morning. I want to take my time, make her feel the burn of the wait, make her shiver and whimper in delight, wait until she’s ready to be honored like a queen, and then only put my manhood, my fingers, my tongue to her service.” 

LeFou was a little worked up by the end of his sentence but Gaston was properly breathless. They clung to each other, lost in their delightfully sinful thoughts.

“How do you always manage to put my thoughts into words?” the hunter panted, both aroused and moved. 

“Maybe I’m a poet?” LeFou said with smirk.

“Maybe you're a love genius…” 

Gaston looked at his lover more seriously this time. He brushed dark curls off his forehead, followed the round cheek with his fingertips. “I mean it, _mon amour_. I don’t know how to treat her the way I want to. Show me how to be soft, slow…” 

Lefou rested his head on Gaston’s shoulder, looked up with an admiring gaze. The kind of eyes that screamed “You are the best”. He shifted, brought his hand close to the hunter’s face but didn’t touch.

“You would want to change for her?” 

Gaston was about to reply but his _amoureux_ leaned into him until their noses almost touched. He moved forward to chase the teasing lips but LeFou swiftly leaned back. “Uh, uh… I’m in charge.” 

“Yes, but…” Gaston mumbled. 

“No butts, not yet!” LeFou chuckled. 

They were so close Gaston could see the flames of the chimney reflect in the smiling brown eyes. He could count his long dark lashes if he wanted to, see the smoothness of his skin. Details he worshipped and yet never took the time to admire. Perfect round nose softly brushed against his own. Very kissable lips blew air over him, making his mouth ache for their reward. LeFou used his fingertips to trace the sides of his face, his temples, his cheeks, his jaw. 

Gaston let out a soft grunt. He obeyed when his lover ordered him to close his eyes, instantly regretted it because every single touch, every whisper, every sensation felt a thousand times more intense. As fingers ran over his lips, his mouth fell open, quickly closed by gentle touches. 

“A kiss!” he growled. 

“Chut!” LeFou replied with the same tone. 

He brushed the tip of his nose all over Gaston’s face, so excruciatingly slow the hunter could only imagine, dream about the mouth that ghosted over his skin. The too warm breath burned his patience like a dying candle. A shiver ran down his strong back, Gaston felt his muscles roll and shake. This was too much; too slow, almost painful. 

LeFou planted a kiss right in the center of his brow where impatience drew a small crease. Another kiss landed on the bridge of his nose, on the tip, then on his chin, carefully avoiding his lips. Gaston’s fingers dug into LeFou’s soft thighs and he breathed hard through his nose. 

“A kiss…” 

This time his voice was rough and shaking, he wasn't begging his boyfriend, he prayed the Lord himself. His heart threatened to leave his chest when LeFou’s tongue brushed against his lips. 

“How do you feel?” LeFou asked in a deeper voice than usual. 

Gaston didn't open his eyes but gritted his teeth. “This is… so… frustrating!” 

With a snarl he shook his head, gave his lover a dark glare. He pulled him closer, tightened his grip as LeFou struggled back. 

“What about your lesson in patience and sensuality?” said his companion with a throaty laugh when Gaston left a bite mark on his neck. LeFou surrendered happily as Gaston kneaded every part of his body he could reach, mumbling about patience and lessons, and how he never was the teacher’s pet anyway. 

They rolled together on the floor, both decided to leave the lesson to another day; when Gaston straddled his hips to show him what he wished for this encounter, LeFou couldn't contain a grin, a delighted sigh.

“ _Qu’est-ce que je peux t’aimer, toi_ …” 

 

.

Mes amours = My loves  
Chéri = Darling  
Bien-aimé = beloved  
Mon tendre ami = my dearest friend  
Ta petite putain = Your little whore  
Mon amour = my love  
Amoureux = lover, boyfriend  
Qu’est-ce que je peux t’aimer, toi = You, oh how I love you!


	3. Chasseresse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Constance decides to join them on a hunting trip, LeFou is not happy at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a tough chapter to write because I'm not a born hunter and it was challenging to get into the hunter's heads but I hope the result is enjoyable. Also if I had listened to myself I would have illustrated pretty much every scene but I had to make choices.

Going on a hunt was always an exciting experience for LeFou. Indulging in the game itself was not his biggest strength but following and supporting Gaston, helping him, chasing down the beasts, the feel of adrenaline, the wait, the victory… those were intense moments he cherished and loved to share with his partner and hero. Even when, as today, a whole crew gathered for their _battue_ \--and LeFou preferred when only the two of them went hunting because sometimes, [unfathomable things happened](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10931589) \-- he loved to assist Gaston in being the star of the day. 

The pleasure of the event started early when, a few days before, they got their weapons and clothes ready. Gaston had cleaned his dear old blunderbuss, as careful as a lover for the gun that had brought him so many victories. The horses had been pampered, their hooves checked and their manes brushed. LeFou had packed some food in their purses, water, and more ammunitions. And they had made love in the morning, for good luck. Who goes on a hunting trip without making love? 

As they crossed the fence that surrounded their garden, followed by their faithful dog pack, Gaston and LeFou only needed a quick look to decide together to stop by Constance’s house before joining the other men outside the village. They wanted to kiss her goodbye (on the cheek or on the hand, they had not dared ask for more yet) before they would leave for a day, maybe two. When they stopped by her house down the street they gave each other surprised looks. Why was her mare saddled? 

LeFou was about to suggest she probably had some business to do with her mother, or a visit at the castle in mind to get new garments, but the door opened and his jaw went slack. Constance trotted down the stairs with a happy grin. She was wearing breeches and boots, the ones she used to wear before, as Stanley, but her salmon shirt, the corsage that shaped her waist underneath, and the delicate vest were her girl’s clothes. 

“What… what are you doing?” LeFou screeched, his face pale as a sheet. Oh no, their girl was going insane! “You are not coming with us!” 

“I’m not coming with you!” Constance replied with a wink. “We’re going together, _mon coeur_.” 

She checked her saddle, murmured soft encouragements to Mirabelle who seemed as happy and excited as her mistress. LeFou looked at Gaston to get some support but the hunter was smiling like a fool, as if the situation were normal and not concerning at all. 

“Say something!” LeFou ordered with an indignant tone. “This is no place for a lady!” 

The look of defiance in Constance’s eyes made it clear he had picked the wrong move. 

“And what is the right place for a lady?” she purred. “By the stove, cooking for you while you two get all the fun? Knitting socks for your dirty feet, on my own and bored to death? Fine… I’ll do that!” she provoked with a laugh that showed how little she cared about his opinion. She then climbed on her horse, spurred her flanks and maneuvered to trot away towards the edge of the woods. 

“I could hunt before,” she explained to LeFou who didn’t enjoy the situation at all. “I did not wear my courage in my sideburns, you know!”

Her suitor shook his head, gave Gaston a desperate look, didn’t get more support than the first time. He couldn't bear the idea of having Constance with them in a potentially hazardous situation, she was too good, too precious to take such risks. What if she were hurt? Maimed? Killed? LeFou nervously tightened his grip on the reins, urged his horse to follow Constance, not to leave her alone for a second. 

His eye fell on her saddle and his cheeks turned a bright shade of red as he noticed the way her corsage arched the curve of her back. The round bottom almost bouncing on thick leather took his breath away. The breeches didn’t hide much of her strong legs, her thighs applying the right pressure to keep her from falling. His mouth opened in surprise, and when he looked at Gaston, he received an amused glare, his lover’s fangs biting his own lower lip, like a warning of what he would like to do to those legs. He seemed to find the whole disaster funny. 

LeFou could not share his amusement. How could he be so carefree? They had better business to do than protect her in the woods! How could they hunt and take care of their lady at the same time? How could they insure her safety? As he saw her ride just as well as they did to join the crowd gathered outside Villeneuve, LeFou realized she wouldn't necessarily need protection from the forest and its inhabitants : the villagers could sometimes be the worst animals. 

Puzzled looks welcomed their trio as they reached the group. Constance greeted their hunting companions, as impatient as her mare. It didn’t take a minute for the first unpleasant remark to echo under the trees, between whispers and laughters.

“So… you’re only a lady when you want to? How convenient!” Guillaume said in a mocking tone. “ _Garçon_ by day, _demoiselle_ by night?” 

Constance blushed violently, tried not to look down despite her embarrassment. She raised her eyebrow. “What’s that? Jealous that a girl might be a better hunter than you? Why don’t you stay at home to spare yourself the humiliation?” 

Everyone in the troop, even LeFou, bursted out laughing at her comeback and the atmosphere relaxed a little. Tom leaned towards Gaston with a curious frown.

“Tell me, friend, doesn't it bother you that she comes with you? This is a man’s activity, a woman’s hands have no business killing woodland creatures.” 

Gaston tilted his head with a superior smirk. “Why would I be upset? How wonderful it is to love a pretty girl and share the pleasures of hunting with her! I am not interested in laundry stories or marketplace gossiping, I’m glad Constance has more serious interests.” 

LeFou had to admit his own thoughts didn’t sound as good in Tom’s mouth. When their friend suggested Constance should be a good housewife, LeFou wanted to defend her. And yet he was in no hurry to see her taking risks on the field.

A snarky voice raised behind them; Yann the annoying Briton. “Your girl would better not disturb us in our chase,” he provoked. “If she acts too much like a woman I’ll make sure she learns how to keep her place.”

Constance was furious as she turned her head to look at him, but the idiot took a step back when Gaston gave him a threatening glare.  
“Shall I remind you that before Agathe resuscitated him, I killed the Beast on my own? You, on the other hand... are just a man, do I make myself clear?” 

Yann nodded and swallowed heavily, headed towards the back of the group to disappear behind his friends, and the whole crew started to march deeper into the forest.

The group traveled until noon, talking happily and sharing stories: there was no need for discretion before they reached their goal. As such a large group they couldn't afford to travel too far, and since the curse had ended their forest was once again filled with deers, boars and other preys. While they followed the paths up the hills, LeFou shared some of his bread and _saucisson_ with Constance. Food, now that was a passion he loved to share with her! Tasty and way less dangerous than the hunt. He couldn't help notice how distant the boys were, they did not treat her as part of the hunters, as if her gender made her unable to appreciate their stupid humor. It pained LeFou to see her set aside, even if said rejection was more gentle than the first time she came out of their house wearing a dress. Constance had always been one to socialize and join others, and she hadn't found her new place yet, neither with men nor with women. The thought that, at least, there was room for her in their life was enough to lighten his mood.

They all walked down a valley by the river as the sun reached its peak and LeFou had had his second snack, and quickly formed two groups. The beaters were supposed to hunt down the preys then lead them towards the shooters who ended their flee. Even in such a large _battue_ , Gaston was among gunmen, of course. His shooting skills were not to prove. And as of usual, LeFou was by his side, because that was their life, and they always stuck together. Just as she always did, Constance picked the beaters’ group, which wasn't reassuring at all for LeFou who started chewing worriedly on his lip. He would have preferred if she stayed there, next to him, sitting on a stump and talking to birds, or whatever ladies do in the forest. But what could he do against a girl like her? She was just as excited and impatient as Mirabelle, both were pawing at the ground while everyone got ready. His eyes were so focused on her that LeFou stumbled upon Tom and Dick who were discussing techniques to either catch pheasants or get ladies at the tavern, he wasn't sure. He startled, apologized in a shaking voice, and that was all they needed to get his nervousness. 

“Don’t worry, friend,” Dick assured. “We’ll take care of your girl.”

Tom nodded. “We will try to keep her safe but she’s young and intrepid, she’s usually the one who gets us out of trouble.” 

“Thanks, gentlemen,” LeFou sighed. “She’s too reckless for her own good… but don’t tell her I said that.” 

He looked around to give her a warm goodbye but she was already leaving, her mind fully set on the game and not on her lovers. 

.

The wait usually was a moment they both enjoyed; sitting with Gaston, LeFou could encourage him, lift him up, feel and share his excitement. They shared more stories and tried to predict the results of their day out, or daydreamed about the glory their success would bring when they would return to Villeneuve. What if they caught a magical creature, what if they found a deer made of gold or a unicorn!?

Today, the atmosphere was different. Gaston noticed how his partner pouted by his side. Not a laugh, not a smile, no cheering. He nudged him with his elbow. 

“What's going on with you, _l’OeuFou_? I have know better days with you by my side, you look like you’re attending a funeral! Don’t get all sentimental over the creature that will be our dinner!” 

LeFou answered with a grunt and a shrug. Anxiety squeezed his stomach, made him want to vomit. 

“It feels wrong,” he mumbled. “To let our lady go, just like that, in the woods… to take such risks among people who disrespect her.” 

Gaston didn't reply at first but when LeFou finally looked at him, the hunter had a knowing smirk. He placed an arm around his shoulders. “I see… you are scared for her. This is not your most pleasant attitude, _mon ami_.” 

LeFou usually loved his partner’s teasing but today he simply rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Who care about pleasantries when your dame is in danger? We should be taking care of her.” 

“Do you remember last year when, during Tom’s birthday party, Yann insulted Dick and there was a huge fight at the tavern?” Gaston laughed. “Do you remember, love…? When the two drunkards tried to use this mess to abuse Constance’s sisters? One of them still bears the marks of her fist on his eyebrow and the other lost a couple of teeth.” 

LeFou looked up, his partner had a point. He remembered that night, everyone had fought anyone, the ladies cheered and it was all a gleeful mess. But when Constance had seen the guys attacking the triplets, she had become serious, lost all of her tipsiness, and punched some sense of righteousness and decency into these two idiots. 

“Yes. You might be right,” he nodded. “She’s not as fragile as I imagine her to be, but… I’ve never been a lady’s suitor before, I feel like I should be protecting her. This is expected from me. The times of chivalry aren’t gone Gaston! Not for me!” 

Gaston took his hand, a firm yet comforting gesture. “Don’t you think that by letting her do what she wants to do, by treating her as our equal and allowing her to do what other husbands would never agree with, we are already taking care of her?” 

LeFou eyed his lover from head to toes. His collar and sleeves barely hid the scars from his deadly battle. He had lost some weight and gained some wrinkles that made him look older but never less magnificent. Now his eyes smiled often, and his mouth grinned even more, but it’s deep down that the most radical changes occurred. He was not the man LeFou had supported through the aftermath of war for years, and now the beast had turned into a prince in Villeneuve as well. 

“ _Je t’aime_ ,” LeFou whispered against his cheek. “Please, remember that. Always.” 

Gaston was about to reply when the sound of a horn startled them and they all jumped to their feet. LeFou couldn't help at this point, Gaston had to get all the glory, so he walked backwards to a safe spot where he could admire all the action without disturbing neither beaters nor shooters. Gaston was focused on the sounds, the smells, all his senses ready. Another horn called under the trees, much closer this time, and they heard the clopping of horses, feet running and stomping, dogs barking, men yelling to scare the animals right where they wanted them. 

Soon a huge boar emerged in the clearing, furious and ready to fight. This was not the best trophy but it remained the promise of a delicious _daube au vin_ , and Gaston aimed at the wild pig in a silent death sentence. Before he had a chance to shoot his side though, shouts were heard on their right. They barely had time to understand what was happening.

“Yaha… yaha!” 

Constance jumped into the clearing at the same time as a tall stag whose antlers almost brushed the lower leaves on trees. The beast was as magnificent as dangerous, lost and angry, and seeing the determination on their lady’s face LeFou understood she was proud to have brought this one over here, probably by herself. If the animal happened to be an impressive sight indeed, LeFou was mesmerized by Constance. Perched on Mirabelle, her long hair flew in the air, her body was tense from effort, her look slightly dominant and victorious. She rode with passion, as wild as the creatures she chased. Her shouts were more high-pitched as they were before she allowed herself to talk like a girl, but her roars still echoed in the woods like a threat to all edible creatures. She was an Amazon, LeFou thought as he clutched at the old oak that protected him, and she didn’t need a man for the men certainly needed her!

Gaston barely had a few seconds opportunity to jump back and align with the deer’s flank to aim for the liver as he usually did, but this time he chose to move forward, stood straight in front of the prey. He looked him in the eyes as he aimed. No sneaking, no hesitation, no traitorous move. Just two adult males ready to defy each other. LeFou gasped behind the oak, stunned to witness how his lover had changed.

Still behind the deer, Constance grabbed the knife hanging at her belt and threw it at his rump. Startled, the animal reared just in time to show his pale breast to Gaston who seized the opportunity. One shot in the chest, another to his throat. Quick, loud, efficient. LeFou was breathless. The stag stumbled as blood pumped out of his neck. He fell onto the floor, shook for a few seconds. A honorable death for a gorgeous creature. 

Gaston slowly lowered his weapon, catching his breath. He had been surprised by the turn of events, not really in control and way out of his comfort zone. LeFou carefully stepped out of his spot to go take care of him as the hunters started to cheer. A well deserved round of applause. Yet Constance reached Gaston before him and LeFou’s eyes widened. She grabbed Gaston by the neck, pulled him in and kissed him in front of the whole crew. It was not one of those sensual kisses that felt like making love, no tongues, just lips searching and tasting, bodies getting close. Gaston did not need long to kiss back, holding her waist with his strong arm, hand resting on her lower back.

LeFou could have been slightly jealous that his lover got to kiss her first but he was all too happy for them. All he could do was look at the beautiful picture they made with a grin, so proud to think the two wonders were his. He waited until they stopped devouring each other to step forward, clapping and cheering. What a year they had had, the three of them! When he thought about it, where they were not so long ago, lost in lies and delusions, LeFou felt like fate was strange, and sometimes for the best.

“We need to make room at the tavern for this one,” he stated, pointing at the large antlers. 

Gaston shrugged then looked at their girl. “This one could also end up at Constance’s after all. It’s as hers as it's mine.” 

Constance beamed at his words and kissed his cheek. Even though she wasn’t ladylike at all with dust up to her forehead and her messy hair, freedom had her glowing.

.

After a shared meal, and a nap for some, the buck was raised upon a carriage, along with some pheasants and small game. Constance walked back to her horse and announced she would follow the path on the West to check the traps they had placed there a few days ago. 

LeFou opened his mouth. She sighed and rolled her eyes. 

He closed his mouth. She nodded. 

“Fine, you can come with me,” Constance invited as she sat on the saddle. “But don’t try to teach me how to remove a trap, is that clear?” 

“Yes, ma’am!” LeFou nodded, strangely titillated by his own words. He followed as she disappeared behind a thicket. 

When he trotted between the trees to follow her, Constance gave him a playful look, a smirk, then spurred Mirabelle. The mare followed her mistress’ lead and started running down the road at a good pace. LeFou caught her drift and decided to play the game. His loyal _Escargot_ had understood his intent even before he gave the instructions and soon, both animals were racing while their owners laughed and gave each other provoking looks. 

LeFou couldn't take his eyes off Constance; she was a work of art, with her hair flowing in the wind, her cheeks colored pink, her slightly smeared lipstick. A thing of beauty. A modern day Diana the Huntress, goddess of the woods. Too lost in each other’s eyes, they didn't pay attention to the wild boar running out of the grove with its babies. 

Mirabelle saw the little group too late and panicked as they ran towards her. She reared with a loud neigh; Constance barely had time to understand what happened before she was thrown off the saddle onto the floor. LeFou’s breath caught in his throat. Fear invaded his whole body, hands suddenly cold as ice, eyes wide, heart thumping loudly in his chest. His brain got confused as terror slowly spread into his mind, and he yelled “Stanley!”

Immediately realizing his mistake, and despite the paralyzing fear, LeFou jumped to the floor where Constance had rolled in a safe position as she had learned. Thankfully the pig family had left the road. 

“Constance, _bon Dieu, ma chérie_ , how are you? Talk to me!” 

Constance was prostrated on the ground, her head protected between her arms. She slowly unfolded her shaken body, knelt on the floor. She shot him a deadly glare. LeFou wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

“You’re furious,” he stated as he tried to offer a helpful hand. “Where are you injured, _mon coeur_?” 

Constance refused his hand with a defiant look. She got up on her own, wiped her breeches. She spat, eyes half-lidded, “My soul is hurt right now, _crétin_!” 

LeFou felt the heavy weight of his own Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He had never seen her so angry before, and even though he felt like he deserved it, even though she had every reason to be furious, that was a terrifying sight he would have preferred to never see. He watched, feeling powerless, as she limped to Mirabelle and murmured sweet words into her ear to appease the mare. 

“I am so sorry,” LeFou repeated. “I panicked, and… you know I didn’t really mean it. May I help you in any way?” 

Constance let out a furious sigh and he could predict the moment she would invite him to go to hell, or _se faire foutre_. She got back up on the saddle with a painful groan, before she looked at him. She looked so sad, so fragile behind her angry facade.

“Maybe you didn’t mean it,” she said with one of her most outraged pout. “Maybe this is what you’ve always thought deep down. Either way, I’m hurt and...”

LeFou held back tears as he read the disappointment on her face. “God, I’m so sorry! What can I do to make it up to you, _ma chérie_ , tell me… anything!” 

She shook her head, looked away but couldn't hide her pain. “Leave me alone. I need some time to myself.”

“I…”

She shook her head to make him understand she didn't want his company right now then left without looking back. LeFou felt like he could faint, overwhelmed by his emotions and the intense guilt of having crushed her soft, pure heart. Something seemed broken in her; her trust, maybe even her love? Why was he such an idiot? Why couldn't he just think before speaking, like smart people? 

He climbed back on Escargot and turned around, unsure where he should go, when he heard a gallop he knew all too well. Gaston quickly appeared between the thickets and LeFou bowed his head in shame. 

“What is going on?” Gaston shouted. “I heard screaming, are you okay?” 

The hunter quickly took a hold of the situation, slowed down next to his lover. LeFou shook his head left and right, rubbed his fists on his eyes. He gasped, almost unable to contain his tears anymore. “I ruined everything!” 

And as his voice cracked and broke, he wondered why he always ruined everything. Gaston pulled him in a comforting embrace without dismounting, bringing some warmth to his cold, sad body. 

“Tell me. Is Constance alright?” 

LeFou barely nodded then confessed with a sob, “I… she fell from her horse and I got scared, I freaked out and called her Stanley.” 

Gaston hissed between his teeth. LeFou tensed. 

“I know I’m an idiot!” he added. “You don’t need to say more.” 

Gaston hugged him tightly, kissed his temple. “No, my friend, you’re not an idiot. You made a mistake, right, happens to the best of us. Still, you’re about to discover the joys of a furious lady. This will be a storm, maybe a huge one, but it will pass. Do you still have those candies from Cambrais you loved so much? They might be of use…”

LeFou raised his eyes with a sad yet hopeful smile. “Do you think she’ll forgive me eventually?” 

Gaston gave him a small encouraging look, but he didn’t seem so sure of his knowledge in women anymore. They exchanged a tender kiss then headed back to the main road, Villeneuve was only a few hours away. 

They joined the group but remained at a distance, not really in the mood for manly conversations. Their pride and happiness for their hunt was tainted by Constance’s disappearance. She would come back, eventually, when she would be ready. 

After riding for about one hour, Gaston decided to join Tom and Dick to distract them from Constance’s absence. They were not a very popular trio, they didn’t need any more gossiping. LeFou stayed behind, lost in his gloomy thoughts. 

As the sound of their fellows faded before him, LeFou heard the soft steps of a horse behind him. He turned around in the blink of an eye, Escargot almost more impatient than him to meet with their friends again. His heart shattered into pieces when he saw Constance. Her face was flushed, her nose red, eyes still wet. She had cried a lot, alone in the middle of the forest. The sight, the thought of her pain crushed him. LeFou waited until she was next to him, they both dismounted and started walking together in silence. 

After a few minutes she started sniffing and sobbing, very softly as she didn’t have many tears left. LeFou tried to take her hand and she let him.

“I am sorry, _ma toute belle_ , so incredibly sorry…” he mumbled. 

Constance stopped, turned towards him. “I know,” she whispered. “I know you didn’t want to hurt me.” 

“Yet I did,” LeFou sighed and carefully placed his arms around her waist. Constance leaned against him, rested her cheek on his shoulder.

“I was so mad at you! And I’m so angry with myself for being mad at you, because… this was just a mistake,” she confessed, looking at him without leaving his embrace. “You’re allowed to make mistakes, even if…” 

LeFou took her shaking hand in his, the other resting on her back. “I can and I must hear when I’ve hurt you.”

“... and I feel so guilty,” Constance added, voice rough after crying. “I blame myself for I shouldn’t have worn male garments and pursued male pastimes, if I really wanted to be treated like a woman.” 

“Haven’t you heard how these idiots talked about you?” LeFou asked as he entwined their fingers and brushed his cheek over hers. “They all refuse to acknowledge your true gender when they see you in the streets but be the wildest companion on a hunt and all of a sudden you’re a lass who should stay at home with her doilies.” 

Constance let out a soft chuckle. 

“You are my lady… and Gaston’s,” LeFou added. “And no one, not even me when I’m scared, should ever suggest otherwise.” 

She looked up and now that their faces were so close LeFou could see all too well the way her lashes remained glued together with tears, the smoke she put on them to darken them had ran onto her skin, the white of her eyes sporting the saddest shade of pink. And yet through her despair she looked perfect in every way. 

She gripped her fist on his jacket. “The worst part is that... not a day goes by without someone calling me Stanley, by accident or on purpose. Every single day I’m reminded that I’m not what people want me to be. And I don’t care, I really try not to. But I love you, _mon coeur_ , I love you so much and…,” she swallowed heavily. “And oh how it breaks a heart to feel betrayed, even for just one second, by the one you love dearly.” 

The moment she spoke, Constance realized what she was saying and immediately regretted her words. LeFou’s face got colder for a split second, hurtful memories coming back to his mind. “Trust me, I know…” 

“I know you do,” Constance whispered with a sincerely sorry sigh. 

She tenderly placed her hand on his cheek, brushed her thumb on his chin. LeFou could see the kiss coming but he still wasn't prepared for the softness that landed on his lips. Precious velvety lips against his, pretty little nose breathing on his skin. His heart pounded in his chest as he held her face in his palms as if she were a precious porcelain doll, but he kissed back for she was a warm flesh and bones woman. He kissed back so that his mouth could share his feelings better than words did. He followed her lead, sucked then nibbled on her plump bottom lip, ran his fingers in her hair. 

Constance was particularly gifted for a girl with little to no experience, at least in LeFou’s opinion, even though he had only ever kissed Gaston. Her lips were soft as peaches, sweet as honey, they made his face tingle and his heart swell. LeFou tried to break the kiss to take a deep breath but she chased his mouth with a soft moan. The noises she made were a sinful music to his ears. 

When she finally agreed to let him go, her hands still on his neck, LeFou sighed, both admirative and happy. “I didn’t know one could love two persons at the same time. Not like that, not this much...” 

“Neither did I,” Constance admitted. She closed her eyes, gave him a last quick kiss. This was when they heard Gaston’s voice who, watching from afar, had not missed a second of their reconciliation. 

“Aren’t you two the most perfect sight a man ever laid eyes on?” Gaston announced with exaggerated emphasis. He walked towards them, eyes reflecting a gentleness, tender feelings LeFou had rarely seen before. He looked at them like he wanted to protect them, embrace them both. 

“Can we go home now?” Constance asked her two friends. 

Gaston nodded, a funny grin illuminating his face. “Of course, _ma douce_ , we have to go back home... so you can cook this beautiful beast I’ve killed!” 

Constance laughed, shook her head left to right as she climbed on Mirabelle’s back. “Yes, right… I’ll be in the kitchen while you rub each other’s feet.” 

She stopped for a second, frowned, lost in her thoughts, before she added, “Actually, you know what? _Maman_ ’s recipe is the best of all, so I’m cooking for you tonight. Gaston you’ll give me your best bottle of red wine for the stew… but I want a foot rub in exchange!” 

LeFou and Gaston accepted the deal with a solemn nod. They couldn't help staring as she trotted away, smiled to them. 

A lady who shared their interests wasn’t such a bad idea after all; her skills, her bravery as well as her gentle lips had changed LeFou’s mind. It felt a thousand times better to know his lady did precisely what she wanted, when she wanted to. And now he started to understand why Gaston had had this silly crush on Belle.

 

.

Battue = A typical kind of group hunt, I couldn’t find the equivalent in English  
Mon coeur = Sweetheart  
Garçon = Boy  
Demoiselle = Damsel, unmarried woman  
Saucisson = Dried sausage  
L’OeufFou = Pun with LeFou and ‘oeuf’ French for egg  
Mon ami = My friend  
Je t’aime = I love you  
Daube au vin = Red wine stew, particularly tasty when made with wild boar --just ask me for my mom's recipe  
Escargot = Snail, also the first French word Josh Gad said he knew in an interview  
Bon Dieu, ma chérie ! = Good Lord, darling!  
Crétin = Dummy  
Se faire foutre = to fuck off (litt. go get fucked)  
Ma toute belle = Beauty of mine  
Ma douce = Sweetie


	4. Belle de Nuit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the hunt, Constance is exhausted. LeFou comes up with an offer she might, or might not refuse...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can click on the illustrations to see them bigger, so it shouldn't be too uncomfortable whether you're on mobile device or computer. And thanks if you've read 'til here, thanks for the kudos and comments, it means a lot. :)

“Oh… hmm… feels so good, boys…”

Laying in the large chair, head tilted back, Constance couldn't see the effect her voice had on her boyfriends. They both stared at her with glossy eyes, flustered, their breath short.

Constance managed to open an eye to look at them. Fire in the chimney gave their skins a warm tone, flames reflected in both their eyes and enhanced the natural beauty of their features, from Gaston’s chiseled jaw to LeFou’s round cheeks. She smiled.

“Something wrong?”

Both men shook their heads left to right and willingly went back to their task. Constance stretched her legs, lazily wiggled her toes in their laps. Between their expert hands she was melting, overwhelmed with happiness. The day had been long but so rewarding! She had never known such an exciting hunt! Being true to herself in every way, presenting the way she wanted to, doing what she liked the most all at once felt like heaven. And those kisses they had shared did too!

It was almost evening when they came back home but despite their exhaustion they all agreed for Constance to make a good dinner out of their game, and the pot simmered until the sun was far gone. They ate in the middle of the night, at an hour when candles were supposed to be off for a long time, LeFou filled his plate three times, spilling compliments between two bites. And as promised earlier in the woods, they thanked her for taking care of their dinner with a long relaxing foot rub.

Constance let out a soft groan. They had first bathed her tired feet in warm water to soothe her, then started working their magic on her soles. Gaston didn’t even look at her foot as he massaged it, he kept talking about anything and everything, instinctively finding the right moves to leave her boneless on the chair. LeFou was much more focused, he used all his fingers in unison to rub her heels and stroke her toes, and make sure not to leave one spot of her foot unattended. It was obvious they had experience : their combined efforts made her feel soft and warm like butter on a sunny day.

“ _Oh mon Dieu_ , yes… that’s the spot!” she encouraged with a delighted moan as LeFou pushed his thumb into a hollow that instantly relaxed her whole body.

She heard them gasp, opened her eyes. She gave them a small nod to ask what was going on but like the first time they denied everything happened.

“I… I’m just happy that you enjoy it,” LeFou stuttered with the most more adorable embarrassed smirk. “Tis’ all good.”

He added more oil to his hands and went back to business with a decided frown.

 

  
[](http://gaellec.com/heberg/footrub.jpg)

Constance looked at them both for a while, as comfortably settled on the wide chair as if she were sitting on a cloud getting massaged by cherubs.

“You are so handsome,” she whispered, looking at her plumpy suitor, eyes half-closed.  
Her heart shattered when LeFou, not aware of her intentions, nodded towards Gaston and lightly stated, “She’s right, as days go by you become more and more handsome, you age like fine wine, _mon amour_!”

Gaston chuckled, gave her a knowing wink. “She was talking about you, _chéri_ , don’t be so rude, learn to accept a lady’s compliments!”

“Oh? Oh…” His beautiful round face turned red and he looked down, visibly not used to that kind of attentions from someone else than his long time lover. “Thank you.”

With a purr Constance leaned a bit further back on the wide chair, arms resting on her sides.

“I’m so relaxed… so tired, right now,” she yawned. “I need to find the strength to go back home. I’m never gonna make it when I’m already half asleep...”

Gaston laughed as she added, snapping her fingers, “Come here Mirabelle, bring me home!”

The three of them laughed at the silly thought. Constance lazily tried to get her feet out of their tender grip but didn’t manage to find the will. She didn’t want to escape and, to be perfectly honest, she was already half-asleep and wondering if most of their conversation was not a dream. She felt her breathing slow down, on the verge of sleep, when LeFou spoke.

“Maybe you don’t have to?”

Constance’s eyes flew open. Her mind started racing. What did he say? What did he mean? Was he suggesting she should stay the night?

Her breath caught in her throat and she slowly regained consciousness of her body, the way she was splayed in front of them, breeches rolled up her calves, being touched by two men. Fear washed over her for a second. Would she have to tell Maman that she spent the night at their place? What would she think of her? If she wanted to be a girl, she had to be a respectable one, like her sisters, not a _mauvaise fille_.

Constance swallowed heavily. Not coming home tonight, would it mean to share their bed? She wasn't sure she was ready for that. Not yet, but… she had kissed them both today, she had taken the initiative, they probably thought she was that kind of girl!

Feeling her surprise and both their intense gazes on him LeFou added, “That wasn’t… I mean, not an invitation to… be… I-- I… we have a spare bedroom that we haven’t used in a long time. I would never suggest… I do respect your chastity, _ma chérie_!”

Constance started breathing again, slightly reassured. Of course they were gentlemen, they would never force her to do anything. Even though she knew their relationship would never be normal, or traditional in any way, Constance hoped they would treat her better than some farm girl you use and leave on the side of the road.

“You just seem so tired,” LeFou said with an awkward smile. “I just want you to know you will always be welcome in our house. Day and night.”

Gaston finally nodded, hands still on her foot. “Absolutely, darling. Wherever we belong, you belong too. Yet, if it is too soon and makes you uncomfortable I can walk you back to your mother’s house. I don’t mind.”

Constance opened her mouth to talk but closed it after a few seconds of silence. They were serious. She had never considered that option before, except perhaps in her most indecent fantasies when she was still a young girl, but what should they have to wait, it was not like they would get married anyway? She shrugged, a slight blush coloring her cheeks.

“I don’t want to bother you, my friends.”

LeFou opened wide eyes and placed his hands on his cheeks in a theatrical pose. “You? A bother? You’re our lady, you’re free to stay in our home for as long as you please!”

He was overdoing it but Constance could feel he was sincere. Gaston finally let go of her foot that was now so soft Constance was certain it couldn't bear her weight yet. He wiped his greasy hands on a cloth.

“Truth be told, Constance, we dread the moment you leave at night,” he said in a sweet confession. “We love having you around and when the night falls and you leave, we feel… lonely, incomplete. Something’s missing. Your presence, your wit, your warmth.”

Constance couldn't help the blush on her whole face. It was so strange, so new to feel wanted this way. Their desire felt pure, respectful. She knew they probably had their share of lust yet they never expressed anything but tender love for her, and it was as unusual as beautiful.

“I hate these moments too,” she confessed after a few seconds. “Your home has allowed me so much freedom over the last few months! I love every single minute spent with you two.”

She took a pause, rolled a strand of hair between her fingers. “Still, I am… a bit scared. This means everyone will see me coming out of your house tomorrow, and guess, and… think. Also, I’ve never slept at someone else’s place before, not even Dick or Tom back in the days.”

Gaston placed his warm hand on hers and gave it a light squeeze. “That’s it, _ma puce_ , I’m taking you home. The last thing we want is to make you uncomfortable, and it won’t be said that a lady spent the night in our house unwillingly!”

Constance took a deep breath. His tone was gentle but determined, yet she wasn't really sure what she wanted deep down. In the end, in a few weeks, or a few months, if their love blossomed even more, would she be happy to stay with them all the time? A soft sigh escaped her lips. She had never known such intimacy. Living with her would they still enjoy her company so much? What would they think of her less than pretty face in the morning, when her hair would be a mess and sheet marks would remain on her face? Her look fell upon her ribbons on a chair in a corner of the room. The first ribbons Mme de Garderobe had given her the day they all attacked the castle. “Be free,” she had said. Be free. From rules, and norms, and social conventions. From useless fears too.

She twisted her wrist to catch Gaston’s hand in hers. “Why don’t we give it a try, just for a night? See how it goes?”

Gaston seemed to hesitate as her voice was still weak and she didn't sound so sure, so Constance nodded and sat straighter.

“If you would have me for breakfast tomorrow?”

She looked at Gaston and his relieved smile, then at LeFou who just beamed on his stool. His happiness was a gift in itself. He got up, beautifully excited, and flapped his hands in the air.

“You’ll see the guest room is very comfortable, let me prepare it for you, _ma beauté_!”

And before she even had time to tell him she didn’t need anything special, LeFou had stormed out of the living room. Gaston and Constance exchanged funny looks as they heard loud noises coming from behind the wall. Cracks and bangs, hisses and squeals. Objects falling to the floor, furniture being moved around, doors being opened then closed, even the sound of broken glass followed by a “ _Aïe_ !” they could not explain. LeFou crossed the room, sucking on his finger, to run into the dark garden without a lamp, then came back moments later with flowers he just picked.

“This is insane,” Constance whispered at Gaston once their dear friend had disappeared into the bedroom one more time. “I don’t need all that!”

“When he loves someone, he thinks they deserve the best,” Gaston shrugged. “When it comes to you? We both do.”

After five very busy minutes, LeFou finally trotted to Constance and reached for her hand with a solemn bow. “Your bedroom is ready, milady. Would you follow me?”

Constance did as she was told, guided by his gentle hand. She had already been through the whole house since her first visit, she remembered the second bedroom that she once thought was for LeFou. Never had she seen it like that. The bed was filled with various pillows, LeFou had hung curtains at the window, lit up several candles, and placed a small flower bouquet on her bedside. On a small table were a mirror, a hair brush, a cloth and a bowl of water. Right next to the bed, a porcelain chamber pot. Where did he find all this?

The room he had set up for her was so much more luxurious than their own! Constance let out a soft gasp. “This is too much! I don’t deserve all this!”

She had never even had her own bedroom, Maman could not afford such a big house, so Constance had always shared her bed with one or two of her sisters. She turned back to her dear friend who was almost bouncing seeing her joy, then placed her hands on his cheeks.

“This is wonderful, _mon ami_. You’re treating me like a princess! I am the luckiest woman on Earth.”

She could tell from the blush that crept all the way up to his temples that he enjoyed the praise. Constance kissed the tip of his nose then looked back at the room, repeating that it was too much.

She took their hands, shyly looked up. “So… I guess I’m going to bed now? See you in the morrow?”

Gaston cupped her cheek in his large hand, a warm smile lighting his face.

“I much prefer this goodbye,” he admitted before he kissed her lips, tender and chaste. “ _Bonne nuit, ma chérie_.”

Constance gladly surrendered to the first kiss she did not initiate today, deeply moved by the thought they would spend the night so close to each other. She left Gaston's embrace to hug LeFou who kissed her too, with his so soft, so sweet pout.

“ _À demain_ ,” he breathed against her lips before letting her go and walking down the corridor, holding Gaston’s arm. They seemed much more relaxed than usual, Constance noticed. They didn’t bear the weight of the separation, they felt lighter, happier to know her there, where they could take care of her.

As she closed the door of her bedroom (and how quick she was to call it hers in her head already!), Constance hoped she would never grow accustomed to feeling so loved and desired. She felt strong, important. To them, she mattered, she was not the third wheel.

The smell of fresh flowers filled the room as she removed her breeches, her pink vest, her shirt and her corset, then carefully folded them on a chair. Once only remained her chemise, Constance sat at the table to look at herself in the mirror, brushing her hair that had never been that long before. In the other room, she could hear her _amoureux_ whisper; she admired that bond they had, a love that had survived war, fights, curses, so much pain. Gaston and LeFou, they were so radically different and yet, understood each other better than anyone.

Constance blew all the candles around her bed before slipping between the clean sheets. She rested her head on the pillow, closed her eyes and quickly dozed off, exhausted by the long day she had.

.

She woke up moments later; the night was still dark. She was so alert she wondered if she had even slept at all, but the light behind the door and the whispers were gone. Several pillows had been kicked off the bed in her sleep too.

She rolled onto her side. Were the boys sleeping? She turned to the other side. Too warm. She removed the thick blanket from her chest. Too cold. Did they sleep in their undergarments or did they own fancy pajamas? They always looked elegant, in any given situation, Constance could easily imagine them in satin shirts and velvet pants, and… _bon sang_ , Constance, this was not going to help going back to sleep!

She rolled over one more time. The bed was so empty! She was too used to the weight and the smell of her sisters on her mattress, to gentle fingers playing with her hair, arms wrapped around her, gossips and giggles waking her up. She felt… alone. With a huff she tried to cuddle a large pillow but that wasn't the same at all.

Annoyed with her own stubbornness, Constance sat up and carefully arranged the pillows around her to pretend she was surrounded by two bodies. She laid her head back, closed her eyes, but sleep wasn't hidden behind her eyelids.

“Constance, _tu es ridicule_!” she told herself in a soft voice. “You are a grown woman, not a little girl, you can sleep like an adult! Don’t be silly!”

She stomped the mattress with her feet, more and more annoyed by her insomnia. Looking around the room she noticed one of LeFou’s bows hung by a closet. She brought it back to her bed like a nesting bird, held it in her hand, next to her face, to find the comfort of her boyfriend’s smell. Then she closed her eyes, ready to surrender to sleep.

Sleep. Wasn't. There.

Constance was more and more annoyed with herself. She could sleep in the woods when they went hunting, she had spent nights over grass and rocks, she had slept while the troop was attacked by a bear, and now she couldn't find sleep in a princess bed. At least, she thought, during the hunts all the companions slept next to each other, they shared blankets and body warmth, they made noises. This house was too quiet. Too comfortable. Too perfect.

And she was too awake.

  
[](http://gaellec.com/heberg/pillow.jpg)

Constance muffled a frustrated groan in her pillow. Thinking of the several times she had slept in the forest made her think about their last hunt. The exciting chase of the stag. The kisses. The incident with LeFou. She hated how hard she had been to him, poor guy didn’t deserve to be yelled at. He never treated her as less than a princess. He had looked so hurt, she even made him cry. And suggesting he didn’t know what betrayal feels like? Constance placed her pillow on top of her face. She was a terrible person. A terrible lady friend! And why, oh why did bad thoughts always use the dark of the night to come to her? When she was most likely to listen to them? Now she didn’t feel alone anymore, she felt lonely.

Frustrated, she threw the pillow to the ground then got up and walked out of the room. Perhaps she could find a book to keep her mind busy and stop rambling? Constance tiptoed down the corridor towards the living room. What if they didn’t sleep? They would see her in improper garments, the long white chemise that covered her thighs didn’t leave much to imagination. She shook her head and ventured forward. The clock indicated 4:00 am. She had barely slept at all, and to add to the list of her idiocies, she was wandering her boyfriends’ house, half-naked, her hair down like a forest nymph.

Their bedroom door laid slightly opened as she walked by. Constance promised herself she would not peek inside. She kept her promise for a good three seconds, kept walking to the main room, but swiftly turned back and took a quick look at the room where both men were asleep. Maman always said “ _La curiosité est un vilain défaut_ ”, but Constance had already broken so many rules, one more wouldn’t be noticed.

What a mesmerizing sight they made, the two of them! Constance slowly took a step into the room, then a second. A pause. A third step. Before she even thought about them waking up and finding her there like a ghost coming to haunt them, Constance was at the end of the bed, looking at her handsome suitors like the cheeky little brat she was. Biting her lower lip, she let out a delighted sigh. They looked divine!

With their hair freed and their opened white shirts, they looked radically different from their every day selves. Gaston was sleeping on his back, arms resting on his sides. He looked sound asleep but not relaxed. There was a tension in his shoulders. Constance stared wide eyed at his muscular body, the scars, the shapes she had never seen on anyone before. LeFou was right all along, Gaston was a unique kind of a guy. He even had squares on his stomach that made Constance’s heart beat faster!

On the other side of the mattress, LeFou had one arm over his head, the other hanging out of the bed. His beautiful face was framed by thick curls and even when he slept, he had the most sensual pout. His white shirt opened on such pale skin Constance had to nibble on her finger to refrain from touching him. Oh how soft he looked! How pleasant it would be to run her hands all over his smooth curves, his round belly, the soft pink rosebuds on his chest!

 

  
[](http://gaellec.com/heberg/sleep.jpg)

Constance shook her head, blushing in the dark. No, no, she had been way too far. She had to go back to her room and stay there. Hands over the sheets, pretty please. Her eyes fell on both her friends and she surprised herself thinking about the friction between Gaston’s strong firm body and LeFou’s softness…

With a huff, she lectured herself in silence and took a step back. She was about to leave when Gaston let out a soft groan. Constance’s first instinct was to freeze like a doe in the woods, wondering if she had time to run away before she was caught, but she observed his face and noticed he was still asleep. His brow furrowed, his nostrils flared and his jaw clenched. Although he was almost silent, Gaston breathed hard, his chest rose and fell faster and sweat shone on his temples. Constance’s heart broke at the sight.

She slowly climbed on the bed between them, slid as discretely as possible to his side to try appeasing his nightmare. Gaston seemed like he could tear the sheets with his fists. Constance leaned into him, making sure not to wake any of them in the process, and softly blew on his face.

“It’s alright, _mon amour_ , I am here…” she whispered, pushing hair strands from his face. “I’m here, we’re both here. You are never alone.”

Gaston seemed to relax a little so she kept going, leaning more and more on the bed until she was laying between them. Laurette often had terrible nightmares at night and Constance was used to helping her calm down.

“You’re in your bed, Gaston, _mon chou_ , you’re in your bed, you and the ones you love are safe. You’re asleep... with your girl and your man… always by your side…” she chanted in his ear. “There’s no fight to lead, no hunt to make, no one to protect. This is peace. This is friendship. Love…”

Her fingers ghosted over his skin, she didn’t want to wake him up, just chase his bad dreams away. His breath slowed down as she spoke, she kept whispering sweet nothings until his face was peaceful as the river once again. His lips partly opened as he relaxed, his body felt less tense. Constance smiled, happy to have conquered his nightmares. He had paid the price already, demons could stay away from her man now! She was about to slide out of the bed like a garter snake in the grass when Gaston rolled over and placed his arm on her in a strong embrace.

Constance froze, stopped breathing. Oh, no! This was bad! She held her breath for a little too long and almost coughed, managed to keep her body still despite her heart and mind urging her to race out of the room. As when it rains, it pours, Constance felt LeFou shift in her back and also cover her with his arm, locking her in the softest, warmest jail one ever knew.

Now this was a complete disaster. Not only was she already terrified to confess to Maman that she had spent the night in two men’s house, but now she was in their bed? How could have things gone so wrong?

She rested her head on the pillow, relaxed her whole body, trying to think of a plan. How could she escape without waking them up? Gaston was breathing in her face, LeFou on her shoulder blades. She had to find a way to make them roll over.

She yawned. How could she catch their attention to have them turn away from her? She was just going to close her eyes for a few seconds to think about a plan. Just a few seconds, she thought as she stifled another yawn. Little did Constance know that sleep actually was in this warm bed, between the two guys that had been the most gentle to her. She thought about a plan for ten long seconds. The eleventh, she was sleeping like a baby.

.

The sun was high in the sky when she woke up and remembered the whole night. They had all fallen asleep very late and now Villeneuve was already buzzing with noise, the marketplace was crowded, everyone in their place, doing their life. Constance opened her eyes just as Gaston did too. His face lit with surprise, wrinkles formed at the corner of his sparkling eyes as he realized they had company. His mouth stretched in a happy, innocent smile, a flash of fangs catching sunlight. Constance felt her heart beat faster at the sight; how could she have hesitated for even a second? She was so in love with them, such feelings could not be wrong. How could she have, when she was younger, thought she was meant to be a man and love women, --she had tried, she had failed-- when it felt just right to be a lady in their arms?

Gaston tightened his arm around her, on purpose this time, and ran his open hand on her back, eliciting a shiver. When he tilted his face closer to hers she really thought he would kiss her, but Gaston simply brushed his nose against hers, and if that wasn’t the sweetest thing on Earth, Constance could hardly imagine what topped it. She smiled back, touched by his still sleepy face and his wide grin.

“ _Bonjour toi,_ ” she murmured.

“ _Bonjour toi aussi_ ,” he replied, voice a little hoarse from the night.

They both felt the mattress shake and move as LeFou shifted behind them. He let out a loud yawn, a grunt, then a gasp. Constance could feel him sit on the bed in a hurry, panic running through his body. His voice broke a little as he squeaked, “Gaston!”

Constance turned her face down to pretend she was still asleep and hide her amused smile.

“Gaston…” LeFou insisted in a lower voice.

“Hmmm what is it, mon chéri?” Gaston purred, raising an eyebrow as he looked at him.

LeFou let out a deep sigh, annoyed by his lover’s lack of reactions. He hissed, stating the obvious, “There’s a girl in our bed!”

“So what? She’s our girl, it’s all good…” the hunter teased before he understood his friend’s turmoil. “Oh, I see. Is it a first for you?”

“You know it is!” LeFou snapped back in an annoyed whisper. “What am I supposed to do now?”

As Gaston bit his lower lip, Constance could guess he enjoyed the teasing a little too much, but she had already witnessed their friendly banters before, and she knew LeFou was not the last to tease and pull the right strings when he wanted to.

“I don’t know, what do you want to do?” Gaston provoked in his delightful morning voice. “Fuck her?”

Constance tensed a little, unsure she appreciated the joke, but relaxed as soon as the reply came.

“Gaston!” LeFou choked before he added, speaking too fast. “I-- you… no! No! Besides, she’s sleeping and I’m pretty sure that’s… unethical!”

Gaston couldn’t help laughing softly at his panic. He waved his hand, curled his fingers to invite their poor lover closer. “Come here… I’m pretty sure ladies love snuggles. So follow my lead and snuggles it is.”

Constance thought this would be it, but LeFou let out another whine. “But Gaston… it’s morning! I cannot just snuggle her right here, right now… from behind! She might mistake my intentions, there are some things that can’t be controlled.”

This time Constance couldn’t help a soft chuckle and she dropped the act, turning her head towards LeFou. It took her all her strength not to squeal at his sleepy face and the wild curls crowning his head. “ _Mon ami_ , I am not your average village girl, whatever there is to feel that might embarrass you, I know it very well for I also have it.”

Constance would never had thought it could be so comfortable to casually talk about their private parts sharing bed with two partners but this morning had a magical feeling to it. She trusted them to be gentlemen towards her. LeFou gave her a surprised look, then nodded.

“Alright then… if you’re not bothered.”

Constance felt him scoot against her back, bringing his warmth to shield her from morning coolness. His hot breath fell against her neck, a whisper in her ear.

“ _Mon Dieu_ , you’re so pretty in the morning!”

A light blush colored her cheeks at his statement that Gaston immediately approved with a nod. When she felt LeFou’s whole body embrace her like a big spoon, noticed the stiffness against the small of her back, she hid her face in her hands to conceal how red she had just turned.

“Oh, my…” she chuckled against the pillow, as both her lovers gave her surprised looks. “From here, this specimen feels quite... intimidating.”

She hoped they would not be offended, or shocked by her inexperience, but LeFou had a soft embarrassed giggle and Gaston bursted out laughing, assuring her that she was right indeed: in some regards, LeFou was among the manliest in town. Constance nodded and buried her face in the crook of Gaston’s neck. This was good to know, she guessed.

LeFou was holding her like she held her little doll at night when she was a kid, clingy and yet so gentle. “Are you hungry? I can make some _pain perdu_ for breakfast.”

“Sounds perfect,” Constance purred. “But snuggles first. _S’il te plaît_?”

Both Gaston and her used their strength to prevent LeFou from running away. She could tell by the content hum in his throat that he was more than happy to oblige.

 

.

Oh, mon Dieu ! = Oh, my God!  
Mon amour = My love  
Chéri = Darling  
Mauvaise fille = Bad girl, naughty girl  
Ma puce = My flea, a cute pet name for girls  
Aïe = Aouch  
Mon ami = My friend  
Bonne nuit, ma chérie = Good night, darling  
A demain = See you tomorrow  
Amoureux = Lovers  
Bon sang = Good Lord!  
Tu es ridicule = You are being ridiculous!  
La curiosité est un vilain défaut = Curiosity killed the cat  
Mon chou = My cabbage… yes it’s a real fluffy pet name, I swear  
Bonjour toi, bonjour toi aussi = Hello you, hello you too...  
Pain perdu = lit. “lost bread” a.k.a “French toast”  
S’il te plaît = Please


	5. Le bon côté de la barrière

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, there are some mentions of bullying and Constance almost gets to second base... this chapter is basically high school all over again, but with a more hopeful tone, I hope. ;)
> 
> You can also click the pics to see a bigger version.

“ _Bonjour !_ ”

“ _Bonjour !_ ” 

“ _Oh non, pas elle !_ ”

It was barely a murmur but Constance heard it and all her good mood of the morning was crushed by the despising tone. She let out a deep sigh, adjusted the big basket of laundry on her hip, raised her chin up and walked forward, ready to run her errands anyway.

The sun was still low, sky colored with gorgeous shades of pink, orange, and mauve. Villeneuve was waking up and already the streets were filled with people who all had important things to do, just like Constance and her laundry. 

As she walked by the tailor’s shop, she couldn't help looking at the beautiful clothes exposed in the street booth. There was a new dress she had never seen before. With its pink and salmon stripes, and red undertones, it looked as good as it seemed comfortable. Constance stared at it in awe for a few minutes. She didn’t have that kind of money right now, and she didn't dare yet to ask Gaston for coins despite their moving together a few weeks ago, but she couldn't take her eyes away from the dress.

Eventually, as several old ladies pushed her to the side of the booth to compare laces, Constance found a beautiful shawl that would perfectly match her every day dresses. It was delicate, made with warm tones, not too hot for the season and definitely within her budget. As she ran her hands over the soft yarn, Constance knew she would buy it. 

She put her basket down, lifted the shawl between her hands to admire the pattern with a satisfied smile. It was lovely! She wrapped it around her shoulders, loving how it embraced her silhouette, then turned around to look at herself in the store’s window. This was perfect, precisely what her outfit needed! 

Her joy faded when she caught the tailor’s eyes and felt his cold judgemental glare. She opened her mouth to speak but he was faster, and louder.

“You’re gonna buy it now that you touched it!”

Constance bit her lower lip. She didn’t dare to look at the ladies to her right but she could hear from their whispers that they agreed with him. The most hurtful was to think that the tailor had always been so kind and generous to her sisters and Maman. Constance remembered how he would sometimes give the Bimbettes ribbons and bows because “they were so cute”, but that was for good girls, and apparently, whatever she tried to do, Constance was never good enough. 

She opened her purse to pay, wrapped the shawl tightly around her shoulders then lifted her basket on her hip before walking away with a sad “ _Bonne journée_ ” that wasn't met with an answer. 

A leather ball rolled at her feet, bumping into the bottom of her dress. She looked around as a few little boys yelled “Sorry, Ma’am Constance!” from across the street. With a smile she assured them it was nothing, then kicked the ball to send it back. The boys seemed happy with her cooperation, their mother however quickly appeared and pulled them all behind her as if she wanted to protect them from Constance and her terrible influence. 

Constance shook her head, sadness heavying her heart, and went her way wondering how people could not expect one to turn into a monster after treating them like one for so long. She had thought that, perhaps, moving in with Gaston and LeFou would ease things up, she naively hoped that it would set her role as a woman for good --since, apparently, a woman could not live on her own and always relied on her husband’s social status. Even Maman, who had lived almost all of her life alone with her daughters, while Papa was always out of town, was still considered as “Charles’ wife”. 

Constance brushed her fingers on the shawl, ignoring the looks around her. Moving in with two men but still unwed, she had simply officialized her outcast status and now she was followed by rumors or strange looks as she walked in these same old streets. 

After the events of the castle last year, she had gotten out of that box she had been trapped into for way too long. She had spread her wings, as Gaston said, and oh how comfortable it was not to be stuck in there anymore! Yes, being a girl, fully and unapologetically, was a freedom she did not regret choosing. She felt so much better when the outside reflected who she was inside, nothing could make her go back, she had fought too hard for that. Yet… when walking in the village was too difficult, when she felt the weight of judgement and social expectations, she thought with nostalgy how some things were easier as Stanley. 

She would never go back, Stanley was just a costume that didn’t suit her, however she did miss the simplicity that comes with being exactly who people want you to be, even though said simplicity had an exhausting cost. When she reached the wash house, she found an empty spot and started her task in silence. Not many people talked to her anyway. 

.

The sun was high and the bells of the church were ringing ten o’clock when she was finally done. Constance placed the freshly washed clothes back in the basket, ready to take them home. A loud crashing noise and an explosion startled her, as well as everyone in town, and all heads turned towards Maurice’s house; thick puffs of dark smoke came out of his broken window. Immediately, the inventor stormed out of his house to reassure everyone. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine! It’s nothing, good people, you can go on with your lives!” he yelled, waving his hands to urge villagers to look away.

Constance shook her head with a smile. She used to find Maurice weird and annoying, but that was before she realized everyone is a little strange after all. As she turned back towards the wash house, she felt someone run into her. She lost balance and tripped to the floor, looked up to see Yann and Guillaume, the two most annoying guys in town, along with two of their friends who always followed them around like puppies. She decided for a second to give them the benefits of the doubt, maybe they hadn’t seen her? Yes, they were idiots, but they did not necessarily mean to harm her. 

“Ohhh, look who’s there?” One of the men cooed in a mocking tone, and that was just enough for her to know they did it on purpose. She sat on the stone steps of the wash house, dusted her dress. She was too pretty today to pretend to care about these brutes.

Yann grabbed her laundry basket and spilled it all on the floor with a laugh. “Here, while you’re busy with that stuff you will leave our kids alone, _sale pédéraste_!” 

Constance gripped the fabric of her dress with her fist, took a deep breath but did not dare to breathe out, too afraid to burst out crying in front of everyone. Even with her eyes closed she could feel the gazes on her; once the conversations had stopped, the village remained strangely silent. Heart threatening to bounce out of her chest, she swallowed heavily, then licked her trembling lips. When she heard another man’s rough voice she startled, expecting more bullying, but she quickly opened her eyes upon realizing it was just Tom and Dick. 

“What the hell, Constance?” Dick exclaimed as they both leaned in to help her get up. “You’re gonna let this happen? They deserve a good lesson, _ces salauds_! They have to treat you right, dammit!” 

Constance looked down and started collecting her soiled laundry, helped by Tom and Dick. All of her tedious work was ruined by these morons with horse shit on their shoes. 

Tom insisted, “He’s right. You’re a good fighter, show them they shouldn’t mess with you! And you’re smart too, just a good word from you and they would go back to their mothers in no time!” 

Constance sighed as she placed the now full basket on the small wall. “This is… I can’t do that, what can I say? I used to be like them, not so long ago.” These were actions, made out of intolerance and stupidity, she still felt guilty for. She gave both their dear friends a sad look. “I just didn’t imagine what it felt like to be on this side of the road.” 

“What does it feel like?” Dick asked, sliding his thumbs in his belt. Despite his rough appearance and his sometimes nasty jokes, he had never shown anything but concern for her, like the big brother she never had. Ever since the castle, he had been even more protective. But that was not enough to bring Constance her self-esteem back. 

“It hurts,” she admitted with a sigh. She paused, grabbed her bar of soap. “And yet, not only do I know I was no better than them a few months ago, but I’m pretty certain that defending myself would cost me.”

She started wetting one of LeFou’s white shirts as Tom carefully avoided to help her in her delicate task. Dick raised an eyebrow.

“I can’t,” Constance explained. “Every single time I do something brave, something that people think is manly, they use it against me to tell everyone and their mother that I really am a boy. I could give these idiots a lesson, of course, anytime! But asking them to respect the woman in me by fighting them like a man would only attract more troubles, I know it all too well.”

Constance shook her head with a deep sigh, annoyed by what seemed like an unsolvable puzzle. Dick seemed to think for a while about the issue then snapped his fingers and smiled. 

“Well then, you should fight back like a girl and ask us to do the work for you! We would be happy to kick their arses every time you demand it, milady!” 

This time, Constance couldn’t contain her chuckle. She waved at them as they walked away. 

“Thank you, guys! I’ll think about it!” she promised, knowing that deep down her pride wouldn’t allow her to ask for help when she was indeed physically able to fight for herself.

It was almost noon when she was finally done, and this time she didn’t put down her basket, not even for a second, as she started trotting back to the house she shared with her lovers. She was stopped by Claudette and Paulette who had heard rumors of a huge ball at the castle next month, and who wanted to prepare the event with her. Constance listened to them politely even though she was not really in the mood for socializing anymore. She excused herself and went her way after kissing their cheeks and promising she would help them pick their dresses for the big day. 

As she walked by the church, she was hailed by Père Robert. Unexpectedly, he was one of the villagers who had never stopped talking to her. 

“Bonjour, mon Père,” she saluted with a respectful nod.

“Bonjour, Constance!” the religious man replied, his smile always warm and comforting. “How are you today? Did you enjoy the book you borrowed last week?” 

“Oooh, it’s very good,” Constance grinned. “Very romantic. I haven’t finished it yet, you know, I’m trying to teach LeFou to read and these things take time… do you want me to…”

“No, no, it’s fine! Keep it for as long as you need, it’s not as if anyone would want it anyway,” Robert sighed before he added, “Actually, Adam promised me to let me borrow some books from his own collection, I simply cannot wait! How is LeFou’s learning?”

Constance bit her lower lip, unable to hide the pride she felt for her boyfriend. “He is getting very good at reading, he makes progress every day! He even tries to write now! Frankly, romantic stories help him a lot. He’s fond of them, he wants to know the end quickly, and I won’t read them for him, so he learns fast.” 

“Yet another child who could have achieved wonders if his teacher had been more patient and benevolent,” Père Robert stated with a sorry pout. 

Constance approved with a nod. Telling him he was an idiot who could never learn anything had not helped LeFou at all indeed, and he now had to make up for years of humiliations. She looked down, pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“As for me, as much as I love romance, I wish we could find other kinds of stories… don’t you have anything about women going on adventures? Ladies doing great things, not just staying home, mourning their fathers and falling in love?” 

Père Robert shook his head with a sorry shrug. “You’re asking too much of me, Constance, I have very limited options… but you know what? If you don’t find the story you want, no one says you can’t write it yourself.” 

Constance looked at him with wide eyes, blinked a few times. She had never thought about it that way, not that she used to read many books before she started going to Gaston’s place; Tom and Dick were not the best counselors when it came to reading. Technically, this was not a bad idea.

“Oh, I don’t know if I would have the talent…” Constance replied, a light blush on her cheeks. “But I’ll think about it, thank you.” 

“I would love to have a writer in our village!” the priest smiled before he added, “Ah! You know what? Wait a minute… I think I might have something for you.”

Constance patiently waited outside the church but was soon invited to come in. When she walked in, Père Robert was holding a file that contained several vellum paper sheets. He handed it to her with a secretive look. “Listen, this story here is real, and quite… controversial, so it’s not to be left in the wrong hands. May I have your word? In some Parisian neighborhoods everyone loves talking about Julie d’Aubigny but in Villeneuve...?”

“I understand, thank you so much!” Constance nodded, excited as a child holding a treasure. She carefully placed the leather cover in her purse and thanked Père Robert before leaving, feeling both light and ecstatic. She trusted his better judgement, if he thought this story was a good call for her, then she would read it. 

[](http://gaellec.com/heberg/robert.jpg)

Driven by curiosity, Constance decided to take a quick break under a tree to give it a try. Once she had read half a page, she knew she wouldn’t put the file down until she was done. It was almost lunch time but the boys probably weren’t home, and if they were they wouldn’t worry too much about her. She bought a small bread, two peaches, and some ham before she ran out of the village with her basket and her lunch. The laundry would have to wait before drying.

It didn’t take her too long to find a nice spot under a tree, by a lovely meadow, and she settled comfortably to read the amazing story of Madame de Maupin.

.

Constance’s mood had been lifted by her conversation with Tom and Dick, then the cleric, but when she closed the file after reading the last page, she felt like she could move mountains!

Julie d’Aubigny was a girl raised like a boy by her father, among court pages. She led an extraordinary life where she fenced like a man, sang at the opera as a woman, fought duels against men and was rumored to have several lovers and mistresses before seeing her life end at the young age of thirty-three. 

She was born about a century ago and Constance remained under the tree for a long while, daydreaming, inspired and motivated by the incredible possibilities women like them paved for others. Why was she so afraid to live the way she wanted to? Why did it matter so much? In some regards, Belle was right when she wanted to live differently, and a part of Constance was still very ashamed of herself for making her life impossible at times. There was always a gap between those who desperately try to follow the rules, and those who dare to live outside the box, for the former always end up frustrated and hate the latter for doing what they cannot. 

Constance carefully closed the file, certain she would read it again very soon, balanced the basket on her hip and started walking back home. On the road, she crossed the path of sweet little Marie and her cat.

“Bonzzour, Ma’am Consstansse!” the girl lisped, proudly showing her missing tooth. “Your dress iz beautiful today!”

“Thank you, _ma puce_ ,” Constance replied with a grin. “Oooh I see a tooth just fell? Don’t forget to put it under your pillow!” 

Marie beamed as she waved her goodbye. “Yes Ma’am! _La petite souris_ came tonight and left me a coin! Ssoon I’ll buy pretty dresses like yourz!”

Constance walked back to LeFou and Gaston’s house, no… to the house they all shared, with a happy grin on her face. The mishaps of this morning now long forgotten, there were bad things in her life, but not only that, and for all the evil in the world, there was enough good, and she was determined to cling to it. 

.  
The first thing she did as she walked into the garden was to hang the laundry, a soft breeze was blowing, meaning it would dry faster. She was almost done when she absentmindedly looked through the window from afar. A touched smile spread across her face. By the table were remained traces of their lunch Gaston sat on a chair, LeFou straddling his lap. They were kissing, but not the soft kind of kisses they had shared with her for weeks now. Not the soft, tender and chaste kisses that made her feel like the heroine of a romantic book. An unprepared mind could have thought they were desperately trying to devour each other; there were tongues, nibbles, hands gripping and she swore she could hear a moan. 

Constance turned towards her laundry with a smile. Weren’t they the most precious sight she ever laid eyes on? She was tempted for a moment to leave them alone, they probably needed time to themselves now that she had stormed into their life with all of her dresses and frills, but she soon heard Gaston calling her.

“Constance, you’re back!” 

She joined them inside to be greeted with two warm hugs, and two kisses from too wet, too pink lips. LeFou excitedly picked the tip of her shawl, his eyebrows raising in a funny manner. He always noticed first when she wore something special.

“Oooh... is that new?” he asked in a conspiratory tone. “This looks gorgeous, you make it look even better! You have such great taste _ma chérie_!”

Constance tried to answer but Gaston cut her off in a slightly disappointed tone, “Wait, you shouldn’t have paid for it! When you want something you can ask me. We’re here to provide for you, you’re our lady!” 

This time Constance couldn’t help looking down with a shy smile. She couldn’t tell him she didn’t dare to ask, so she just shrugged and promised to think about it next time, just as she did earlier with Tom and Dick. 

As LeFou cleaned the table and brought leftovers to the cackling chicken in the garden, she told them about her morning, why it had taken so long, her several encounters, and she saw both sadness and anger in their eyes. Two men loving each other, even though they were more respected by the villagers, they had known their share of judgement. She could tell they hated to feel so powerless getting her out of her misery. When she spoke to them about the story Père Robert lent her, LeFou made a face.

“Whyyy?” he whined, throwing his hands in the air, always overly dramatic. “Can’t he just give you books about ladies not doing reckless stuff, staying at home and not taking any risks at all?” 

Gaston laughed with her at their lover’s despair and she wrapped her arms around his tummy, placed her head on his shoulder. “Oh my sweet marshmallow of a man, don’t you think you would be bored to death if I weren’t who I am?” 

LeFou’s tender smile proved she had a point. He shook his head. “Bored maybe, but definitely less worried.” 

He stepped away to finish placing the dishes in a bucket of water and gave her a soft look. He hated to see her in danger and yet, he loved her exactly how she was. Constance silently wished him to get used to it, because she didn’t plan on getting any better. 

She rested her elbows on the table in a terribly unladylike manner and stated, “Oh, by the way. I saw you, when I was hanging the laundry out there. I saw what you were doing.”

To her surprise, Gaston closed his eyes with a delightfully guilty smile, scratched the bridge of his nose to hide his embarrassment, and LeFou raised an eyebrow, pretending not to know what she meant. 

“Ah, really? What is it you think you witnessed?” he asked with a little nod.

Constance bit her lower lip, amused by their reactions. “I saw what you two were doing. I doubt your memory is so short, that you…”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Gaston chuckled like a kid caught with his hand in the honey jar. “Are you sure you eyes aren’t playing tricks on you?” 

Constance shook her head with a grin. “You two are impossible! I know what I saw, stop playing innocent. It was nothing but lovely.” 

She noticed the faint shade of pink on their cheeks, and there was nothing funnier in this very moment than to see these two war veterans blushing like young girls as they were caught kissing each other so passionately. 

LeFou leaned against the closest cabinet, then asked in a pompous tone, “Fine, milady, I would never call you a liar so… can you tell me more about what you think you saw?” 

Constance licked her lips. This was his flirting voice, she knew it all too well now, and he was way too efficient at using it. “I’m not certain, but it looked… “ She took a second to find an accurate word, tapped her own chin. “... Tasty.” 

LeFou couldn’t contain a surprised laugh. “Tasty? Is that so?” 

He placed a hand on his hip, his whole face lit by his mischievous smirk. “Maybe _Mademoiselle_ would like a little degustation then?” 

Constance tilted her head, managing a last fake innocent pout as her lashes fluttered. “Oh, did you boys save me some?” 

“There will always be some for you,” LeFou promised as he took a step towards her. “There’s nothing we can refuse you.” 

Constance held his hand as he reached for her, but he did not pull her up to her feet as she expected. Instead, LeFou swiftly straddled her thighs and sat in her lap, looking deep into her eyes. That was a surprise, a very sensual one. She swallowed heavily, unsure of what to do, what to say, where to put her hands. 

“ _Mademoiselle_ , are you hungry?” LeFou teased, gently running his fingers on her chin to tilt her head back. 

Constance could just lick her own lips and nod. She could hear Gaston’s heavy breathing across the table. LeFou, so close, so soft, was pure beauty. His brown eyes reflected amusement and desire, for him love was a game and in this very moment, he was the one to make the rules. 

Soft fingers brushed her forehead, the bridge of her nose, the curves of her upper lip. Constance let them slightly open her mouth. She felt his breath fall on her skin, the smell of fruits and wine. LeFou was taking his sweet time as he brushed his nose against hers, ran his fingers on her jaw. For a second, and she knew it was not a thought to be shared, Constance wondered if instead of war and the curse, it was not LeFou’s teasing that had damaged Gaston’s mind at some point. 

She tried to keep her breath steady as the beautiful face lingered close to hers. LeFou finally placed his lips on hers and Constance jerked forward to get more but he escaped with a laugh. 

“Hey!” she protested in frustration.

“Just whetting your appetite, _ma jolie_ …”

“He is the worst!” Gaston groaned behind the table, leaning on his elbows. “We should do the same with his supper.” 

“Don’t you dare,” LeFou growled against her cheek. 

He shot their lover a dark glare that made Constance shiver with anticipation. To try ending this sweet but nonetheless frustrating torture, she ran a hand behind his neck, fingers caressing baby hair, and tilted her head to grant him access. She hoped LeFou was as predictable as most other men, and unlike Gaston she was willing to let her pride go to get what she wanted. 

“My mouth is yours to claim, now, _mon amour_ ,” she offered, looking at him through half-closed lids. “Take m-- take it…” 

She hoped she hadn't been too far for him, but she saw the flash of pure lust in his eyes, he cradled her head in his hands and kissed her, crashed his lips on hers with a possessive moan. 

Constance loved their kisses, they always made her feel warm, desired, important. However today was new for all of LeFou’s body was covering her, weighing on her thighs, his soft frame pressed against hers. LeFou broke the kiss and she feared he would flew once more, but he remained close to her and dragged the tip of his tongue over her lips. Gaston let out a noise that resembled a whimper. 

Eyes closed to enjoy every second of his tender attentions, Constance tentatively sucked on the tip of his tongue. She felt him melt against her, silently begging for more, yet more she couldn't give, for lack of experience, and just as she hoped he would understand, LeFou finally locked their lips then pushed his tongue to join hers. 

A soft moan echoed in the room. Learning the soft way how intimate a simple kiss could feel, Constance realized most of the indecent noises came from her throat. She wanted to take a deep breath, but didn’t want to let him go. Her hands fell to his lower back, she tried to hold on to his waist, noticed her palms were resting on his bottom, and she would probably have moved them away, were she not too busy processing the wonderful sensations he gave her.

LeFou’s vest and bow were made of satin and velvet, yet they were felt rough compared to the softness of his skin. Constance followed his lead as he dropped any intention but kissing her, sparkles ran through her body as their tongues rolled together. The tick of the clock, a fading background noise, barely reminded her that she had been at his mouth’s mercy for way too long, but every time he shifted in her lap, unconsciously wiggling his round bottom over her, she got a little harder. She had no idea how feverish her boyfriends could get her, and she felt she hadn’t seen anything yet. 

Over her, LeFou’s face was warm with passion. He kissed like he danced, giving all of himself, his talent, his fever, his freedom. After what felt like forever, she let go of his mouth with a wet noise. LeFou’s lips were shining, slightly swollen and stained by her lipstick. His cheeks the warmest shade of red, his look sultry. 

“ _Bonté divine_!” he sighed, shaking his head. 

Constance chuckled, stuck her tongue out with a cheeky smile. LeFou warned her with a soft “Don’t do that!” but that was too late, and they kissed again, more confident, less shy this time, getting accustomed to each other. 

[](http://gaellec.com/heberg/kissstanfou.jpg)

Constance felt euphoric, powerful. Nothing could stop her, not when she felt like she they were making love, only fully dressed. She dared running her hands all over his back, his sides, grip his love handles to keep him close.

When they finally felt like they had had enough for now, slightly satiated, she looked at Gaston on the other side of the table. With his chin resting on his forearms, his dilated pupils and his tensed muscles he looked like a cat about to pounce his prey. A tempting yet impressive sight. 

“Can you move, please?” Constance whispered loud enough into LeFou’s ear, urging him off her lap. “I think our man needs help.” 

“Yes!” LeFou blurted, stumbled back then sat down on a stool as if his head were spinning, his eloquence far gone. He rested his chin in the palm of his hand as he looked at them with enamored eyes. 

Constance rushed around the table as Gaston got to his feet. He met her halfway, pulled her to him with an energy she had never felt before, and she leaned into his strong body as she kissed him like it was the last thing she would do in her life. 

Gaston was much more demanding, more dominant too, a feeling Constance didn’t expect to enjoy this much. She felt one of his hands slide on the small of her back, the other gripping her thigh to lift it up on his hip. They were in such a hurry, so rough and eager that Constance felt her mouth slip, she bit his lip and was rewarded by a snarl. 

Gaston gave her a defiant look, yet even though his eyes were dark, they shone with pride and envy. He awakened a side of her she didn’t know. She wanted to be that girl he was so proud of right now, as he kissed her again. Constance dug her nails in his neck, realizing she was a lover for LeFou and a fighter for Gaston, and nothing felt more natural. With them she could have it all, be a good lady when she felt like it, be an indecent wench when she needed it the most. 

[](http://gaellec.com/heberg/superkiss.jpg)

“ _M-- merde_ ,” Gaston panted, slightly pushing her away as he realized he was grinding against her. Constance’s eyes fell to his crotch where his breeches stretched under the pressure of his manhood. She took a deep breath, stepped back as LeFou joined them.

“I think...” she gasped, placing her hands on their arms. “I think you two need some time alone.” 

Her heart swell with love as LeFou nodded. “Yes, we could certainly use some bedroom time, but you’re more than welcome to join us, _ma chérie_!” 

Constance was touched for his intentions were pure, lustful yet respectful, she knew it. Her heart was racing, her mind going way too fast for her liking. She chewed on her bottom lip, shook her head as she listened to her heart. 

“I love you with all my soul, but I do not feel ready yet,” she admitted before she looked at Gaston. “I hope you’re not too disappointed?” 

Despite his fever, the hunter gently took her hand and kissed the back of her fingers with a look that felt both sexual and tender. “We shall never force you, Constance. Ever.” 

“I would have loved to continue this private conversation, but this is... overwhelming. I’m going to breathe some fresh air in the garden, take all the time you need,” she invited, cheeks red and stuttering a little, before she kissed them both tenderly. 

LeFou seemed sorry to see her go, he held the tips of her fingers in his. “We can stay with you instead. I don’t want you to feel rejected!” 

“Just go!” she laughed, a hand on his cheek. “He’s already looking at you like he looks at preys during the hunts! Go… I’ll wait in the garden.” 

“B--but…”

“Your butt, our room,” Gaston ordered as he rolled his eyes and firmly grabbed LeFou’s arm to pull him closer. “She said she doesn’t mind, will you listen to your girl, _bon sang_?”

Constance laughed and winked at them. “Go! My time has not come yet, let a lady get used to all this. Be patient!” 

“I can be even more patient if you…” LeFou started, his words quickly muffled by a large hand. 

Gaston gave her a warm smile as he dragged LeFou towards the bedroom. “Thank you, you’re an angel, Constance. Thank you so much...” 

Constance smiled and walked backwards to the main door. If she was an angel, she wondered what it made them both? The bedroom door was slammed shut then was shaken by someone throwing themselves against it. She walked out of the house, heart beating fast, breathless. They were both here, warm and ready for her, and Constance couldn’t help feeling she had missed a formidable opportunity. It wouldn’t take much to get in there with them, join them, let them do to her anything they wished, teach her how to be a good lover. And yet, the thought of sharing even more, more touches, revealing more of her body, being even more vulnerable impressed her way too much to fall yet. She would, eventually. Not today. 

Constance walked to the apple tree and sat underneath. The warm shadows of the afternoon, the soft breeze soothed her. Her breathing became more regular, her heart slowed down. She hoped her suitors wouldn’t be disappointed by her running away, yet freedom as she had learned also meant setting boundaries. She wrapped her arms around her folded legs. Her body was more calm now. 

She took a moment to check her new shawl, feel the soft yarn between her fingers, plucked a few daisies to stick between the rows as she used to do when she was a kid. Why hadn’t she joined them? She knew they would never go too fast for her, they would respect her choices, her pace. On the other hand, they didn’t seem in the mood for patience and slow discoveries these last five minutes. They seemed to need the kind of intimacy only lovers who have known each other for a long time could offer.

As she picked another flower, Constance thought about her sisters, all the flower crowns and bouquets they had crafted together. The ribbons they carefully tied to the stems as Maman explained to them that a good girl should never give in to a man’s attentions to quickly, she had to make him wait on purpose. Constance frowned. 

A good girl should not kiss a man before he gave her enough gifts, or proved himself a good party. Money, lands, prestige were a gentleman’s most attractive features. Paulette had raised her finger. “What if the girl wants to kiss him because he’s handsome?” 

Maman had shaken her head with a look that was meant to be strict, but reflected a deep sadness. “Men desire women, _mes petites filles_ , not the other way around. We need to stay in our places, be pretty for them, just like flowers waiting to be plucked. Will you all promise you’ll be good girls? Stay out of trouble?” 

Constance remembered how she had discreetly nodded that day, even though these words were not meant for her. She had always wanted, longed to be that good girl a man would love and cherish. Yet she could not understand either how all these feelings she shared with Gaston and LeFou, the warm comfort of their embraces, the deep sleep she could reach between their arms could be so wrong. Just because they had not received the blessings of marriage? 

When the villagers looked at her, called her a boy, or worse, when they made sure she knew she wasn’t who they wanted her to be, Constance felt obligated to be an even better girl. She had to be prettier, more virtuous, more prude, more polite. She had to shrink down and disappear. For the villagers only? Constance shook her head. This was folly! Why should she fade away, become as bland as possible for people who had already made their opinion about her known, when Gaston and LeFou only wanted her to shine, to be unapologetically alive? 

Constance was roused from her thoughts by the sound of a door opening. She raised an eyebrow, sincerely surprised to see her boyfriends walking to her. “I, uh… already?” 

Gaston shot her one of his signature smirks as he buttoned his shirt up, “ _Ma Demoiselle_ , you’ll learn that a man can be efficient when he needs to.” 

“Well, to be honest, this was not our most honorable performance,” LeFou laughed and sat next to her, before he let himself roll on the floor to rest his head in her lap. 

“LeFou, can you not?” Gaston protested in a fake outraged tone. He knelt then joined them, laying his head on Constance’s other thigh. “We were fast because we wanted to come out and enjoy some good time with our lady. We didn’t want to let her wait.” 

LeFou snorted. “Yeah, we’ll tell ourselves that!” 

Constance watched, amazed to see them comfortably settled on both sides of her legs, ready to take a nap in the grass. Their hair were free, some buttons of their shirts not in the right holes, they breeches ruffled. They looked at her with tired eyes and flustered cheeks. Constance ran her fingers on LeFou’s jaw, followed the roundness of his chin. She scratched Gaston’s scalp, eliciting a low purr. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for letting me be myself.” 

Gaston took her hand in his to kiss her palm. “Thank you for being just as you are.” 

Constance leaned back against the tree, closed her eyes to fully enjoy the moment. She didn’t need a big castle nor servants to feel good. She had everything she never knew she needed. 

.

Bonjour = No, really, do I have to translate this one by now? ;)  
Oh non, pas elle ! = Oh no, not her!  
Sale pédéraste = In modern days could be the equivalent of "dirty faggot" but with heavy connotations of pedophilia.  
Ces salauds = These bastards, these assholes  
Bonjour, mon Père = Hello, Father  
Ma puce = my flea, term of endearment towards girls  
La petite souris = lit. The Little Mouse, equivalent of the Tooth Fairy  
Ma jolie = Beauty of mine  
Bonté Divine = Goodness Gracious!  
Merde = Shit  
Bon sang = lit. Holy Blood, equivalent of "Dammit!"  
Mes petites filles = My little girls


	6. Papa m'aime pas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo... I went full soap opera with this one, and I messed with headcanons (especially concerning timelines, because I see Constance as much younger than Alexis) so I hope you'll still enjoy it if you read it. At first I wondered if that was a good idea, but I remembered the original story was a woman falling in love with a magical beast so I figured I could take some liberties.
> 
> Tw: Mentions of parental abuse, nothing heavy but still.

“ _Allez, allez, mes petites_ … don’t fight, there’s more than enough for you all!”

LeFou threw more grain at the chicken who were cackling all around him, carefully tried to avoid hurting their little feet as he walked among them. It was a beautiful morning: the weather would be cool today, but not too cold, the perfect occasion for a picnic by the river. LeFou had slept between his lovers, trapped in the sweetest embrace, then woken up to Gaston’s inimitable _oeufs à la coque_ , the tastier breakfast he could have wished for, the best way to start a perfect day.

LeFou looked at the fence that separated their garden from the street. Constance was there, watering flowers and removing herbs, always so pretty when she focused on a task. Her lips curled up in a lovely pout, her brow furrowed in concentration as she worked to make their home sweet home more comfortable. Ask LeFou and he would never admit it, but he found her much more wife material than Belle was.

Ever since they came back from the war, Gaston had changed. He was different, rougher than he used to be, and as he often said, he had a feeling something was missing in his life. LeFou never had this feeling before, mostly because taking care of Gaston was a full time job. There was no rest when gloomy thoughts were constantly making his _Capitaine_ feel miserable, when his emotions, especially anger, boiled so fast only LeFou could feel the storm coming. And to be perfectly honest, while he took care of his very best friend, his man, the love of his life, during all these years LeFou did not think about his own issues. He did not rant or ramble about his nightmares, the reminiscing of the shame he felt for his unconventional desires as a young lad, the memories of the war, the way the smell of blood twisted his guts every time. Gaston’s shoulders were the best way to keep his hands busy not to think too hard about all the blood that would stain them forever. Solving Gaston’s problems had been the best way to avoid his own, and how could he have found the time to be hurt by his feelings when Gaston’s were so important?

LeFou had always been there for his boyfriend, fiery as a lover, supportive as a brother, protective as a mother. He had sacrificed everything for him, had learned to enjoy the little attentions when he got them, crumbs of affection at first that became more and more present. He had given himself in every possible way for years and now, finally, he could reap what he sowed: a healthy partner, a happy lover, the promises of a brighter future. Now Gaston opened his heart for him, he managed to talk, not the most eloquent, he still bore a manly modesty, yet he said what he thought instead of getting angry. He knew how to say “I love you” instead of letting his body do all the talking. 

“ _Quand il reviendra, le temps des cerises…_ ” 

LeFou looked at the beautiful creature in their garden they were lucky to call their lady. He smiled. As soon as she started coming more regularly to their place, he had understood what Gaston was missing. As much as he loved what they had together, a part of the hunter needed a girl. Just like his softer side sometimes needed LeFou to be the manliest for him, Gaston also needed a damsel to court, a beautiful lady to seduce and take under his wing. Just as he showed often to demonstrate his strength at the tavern, Gaston needed a man and a woman on each arm to feel perfectly balanced. 

LeFou understood that, he would have even loved to share, if needed. He would have shared Gaston with Belle, or any other wife, as long as he could remain the privileged companion, the one who knew him the best. That was before he realised how good he felt when Constance was around. She was the very first and only girl to make his heart skip a beat when she fluttered her lashes. She had a smile that would make _le Diable_ beg for forgiveness, eyes that read you like an open book. She was precious as a lady, strong as a boy, brave and reckless as a goddess. 

Everything was easier since they were three. Like a fixed stool, they didn’t stumble, they found a stability that felt so good after so many years of internal chaos. They leaned on her the way she leaned on them. LeFou had never been in love before the way he was in love with Constance; and even though he had thought for years that he could not love Gaston even more, he was now proved wrong for their bond was stronger than ever.

LeFou startled as a chicken poked his foot to demand more grains. He threw a last handful at them then closed the bucket and turned around to search for eggs in their small house. From where he was standing, he could see both Constance gardening by the street and Gaston who, in the backyard, was playing with the dogs. LeFou was going to join him when he heard hurried steps. He looked down the street to see Paulette who probably came to visit her sister. LeFou immediately noticed something was wrong for the triplets rarely went out one by one. The way she ran, anyone could tell she was not simply excited by some girls’ issues, she looked scared. She stormed into the garden, grabbed Constance by the wrist.

“Wh--what is it? What’s going on?” 

With her red cheeks, her relatively messy hair and clothes, Paulette looked like she had fallen from her bed straight into her clothes. That was unusual for the triplets. 

“Constance, you have to go get changed!” she urged, in a strangled voice. “Papa is in town. He’s already yelled at Maman and now he demands to see his son!” 

“I… uh, I can’t!” Constance protested without much conviction. She looked stunned, unable to make a decision.

LeFou’s first instinct would normally be to run to her and try to enquire what it was all about, how he could help, yet he knew better than overprotecting Constance now. He didn’t want her to snap at him, she had said it more than enough times, she could take care of herself! He remained close to the hen house to keep an eye on the situation. Strangely, Constance didn’t look defiant nor brave, and that was new. LeFou frowned. She seemed lost. 

“Please!” Paulette insisted. “Just get in there, put on some boy’s clothes and play pretend for a couple of hours, we’ll make sure he leaves soon but he can’t see you like that. Constance, _je t’en supplie_!”

“Ah… uh… yes, yes…” Constance stuttered, visibly in shock. 

She had been a lady for a while now and switching to her old manners would not be easy, especially since she didn’t want to at all. She looked afraid, panicked even. This was not the girl who just yesterday had a race with the dogs in the fields and already prepared for their next hunt with unprecedented pleasure. 

LeFou took a step forward, ready to go and ask if she needed any help, and why couldn’t she just stay in the house all day until her father was gone, but the girls froze, hand in hand, as Charles approached on the other side of the fence. He had grown much older since LeFou last saw him, he didn’t look less interested in drinking, didn’t feel more gentlemanly either. LeFou hesitated. Constance’s words echoed in his ears “I can get myself out of trouble, _merci_!”. No, he didn’t have to go to the rescue, Constance had proved many times how brave and capable she was, she would be upset if he overstepped.

Grumpy and probably hungover, Charles pushed the barrier. “What are you doing? I thought you would go fetch your brother… where is this lazy son of a...?”

The rude man looked all around at the small house, the garden, then at Constance. “Is it his place? Are you his girl? Why didn’t you tell me that he was engaged?” 

Constance kept staring at her father in horror, her hands tensed, looking just as terrified as Paulette. That was not normal. LeFou started walking towards them, sharing their nervosity. Something was off. 

Charles eyed Constance from head to toes. “... feisty slip of a thing,” he judged, before his eyes crossed those of his new daughter and he gasped, finally recognizing her. “Stanley? What the…” 

LeFou walked faster, certain now that things would get out of control, but didn’t expect the violent slap that hit Constance’s face. LeFou’s breath caught in his throat, his body found by itself the energy to run towards them, and as he was wondering if he should fight the man or protect his lady first, he heard a roar and heavy footfalls behind them. He jumped out of his lover’s path, wrapped his arms around Constance to pull her farther from her father and sister, and get her out of reach. To protect her was his priority: furious as a raging bull, Gaston would take care of the rest. 

“Who do you think you are?” Gaston snarled into the trespasser’s face, grabbing him by the collar of his ruffled shirt. “You come into my property to beat my wife?” 

He had drawn his rapier but his most efficient line of defense was his tensed body. Right now he seemed like he could crush a wall with his bare hands. The veins in his neck and forearms more prominent than ever. LeFou swallowed heavily, still wrapped around Constance. He was reassured as their lover’s intervention bore the comfortable certitude that things would be alright. However LeFou had to admit he hadn’t seen Gaston so angry in a long time now.

“Your wife? He’s not a girl,” Charles shrugged, trying to escape the strong grip. “Let me get that imbecile back home, I have to beat some common sense into his little head, his mother never knew how to…”

“She’s my wife,” Gaston repeated in a tone that didn’t accept any contradiction, moving his hand to Charles’ throat. “Get out of here before I kill you for laying your dirty paws on her!”

LeFou realized he was still holding Constance tight, wrapped around her, his muscles tensed, ready to protect her. And Constance, usually so brave and defiant, now looked younger than ever, searching for his embrace and his safety. Every time her father’s voice raised, she trembled. She was on the verge of crying, her cheek bearing the red mark of a gesture her lovers would never forgive.

“I don’t care what kind of pervert you are,” Charles spat with a look that showed what he thought of his opponent. “I won’t let you…”

He choked as Gaston dug his fingers harder in his throat. The hunter pressed the tip of his sword to his stomach, threatening to tear the already worn fabric.

“Get out of here or I’ll get these guts out of you! NOW!” 

Anyone could tell he really meant it. To their surprise, Constance let out a loud sob and stepped forward to place her hand on Gaston’s arm. “Let him go… please, my love, let him go. He won’t hurt me. I… he understood.” 

Gaston’s shock and surprise mirrored LeFou’s and they both looked at Constance who, crying in her sleeve, shook her head. Many villagers had gathered around the house, the streets filled with rumors and whispers. LeFou looked around them. Dick and Tom had their hands on the pommel of their swords, ready as always to defend their younger friend to the death. Claudette and Laurette had showed up too, along with Maman Eléonore who looked like she had cried. 

“Let him go,” Constance repeated softly. “He will leave.” 

Gaston frowned, not happy with that decision, but released his grip on Charles’ throat. He slowly took a step back but remained between Constance and her aggressor, not to leave him any occasion to hurt her more.

“Why did you do that?” LeFou whispered in her ear as Charles crossed the barrier back to the street. In his mind, in his heart, he felt like Charles deserved this treatment, and even though he usually was more merciful than Gaston, nothing proved he would have been today.

Constance shook her head, crying softly. “I don’t know…” This sounded like the truth, she seemed lost, confused. 

Gaston locked the barrier, rapier still in his closed fist, his eyes on Charles to check his every move. The brute gave a pitiful look to his daughter and they all thought he would attack her again but this time he turned towards his wife, raising his hand. LeFou noticed that Dick immediately tightened his grip on his sword. 

“This is all your fault,” Charles accused, loud enough for all the villagers around to hear. “You made him this way, how could you?” 

LeFou frowned. He could clearly remember Maman had not always been supportive of Constance’s choices, even though she had quickly tolerated, then accepted her identity. It had not happened in a minute, they couldn't say she had encouraged her at first.

Charles looked around, gave Constance a despising glare as he waved towards her. “He was my son and you turned him into… this.” 

“Your son?” Eléonore finally smirked, taking a step forward. When she pointed her chin up, her nose poked out just like Constance’s. “Remind me… were you even there for your son when he needed you the most?”

Constance and Paulette took a step back, impressed by their mother’s defiance. Charles was startled as well. He was used to coming back to Villeneuve every once in a while, have his wife and daughters obey him, pretend to be a good father for Stanley, get drunk then disappear again. This was one too many times, and he did not realize how the village had changed after the curse was lifted. Yet what shocked LeFou the most was the way Constance shook and shivered. His beautiful amazon, always so brave, she was now pale and silent. 

“I always did what I had to do,” Charles growled. “You were the one to play games…”

He turned his head to look at Gaston, then at Constance who had found her place back in LeFou’s arms. For a few seconds he evaluated the situation, eyes going from his wife to his children. More villagers had joined the group for they all needed entertainment, and they still loved scandal. LeFou wished they all left, afraid that some of them might choose to support the intruder.

Finally, Charles stated, staring at his wife, “I see… this is what you’ve always dreamed after all. You always wanted one of your girls to be with Gaston, when you understood he had depraved tastes you sent Stanley instead.” 

This time Constance couldn't help stepping up, hands shaking at her sides. She managed to protest, breathless but proud. “ _Tais-toi_! She did not send me anywhere! Gaston is a good man, he never did anything but respect and cherish me!” 

She panted for a second then added, “He is a better man than you’ll ever be, Pa’... leave me alone.” 

LeFou didn’t know what to do but stare at the scene with wide eyes. There was nothing he could help with, no song that would lift everyone's mood, no chivalry move that would make his woman happy. Despite Constance protecting her father, he did not feel like calming Gaston right now, not while there were still risks for their lady. How could one raise hands on such a precious girl? LeFou was certain he could never, even if Constance hit him first. 

Charles looked at her, eyes filled with regrets. He shook his head. “You… don’t talk to me. I had one son and you ruined him. The rumors were right, this damn village is cursed.” 

Eléonore took Laurette and Claudette’s hands to gather her courage then stepped closer to Charles who looked ready to leave. LeFou thought she would either apologize or tell Charles to go to hell, little did he expect the “Stanley never was yours anyway” that echoed in the silent street. 

All the citizens of Villeneuve gasped and stared at her and at Constance, wondering if they had heard well, if she really meant what their imaginations running wild were making up. Eyes widened and jaws went slack, everyone was in shock. Only Dick shook his head from left to right with a sorry frown and bit his lower lip as if he begged Eléonore not to say more, but it only lasted for a split second. Nobody seemed to care about him, yet LeFou saw that Constance had noticed him too. She who already was so confused looked even more lost. LeFou gently reached for her hand as Eléonore, tears in her voice, eyed her husband.

“After the triplets were born, you spent your time at the tavern to avoid having to help me at home,” she sighed. “There hasn’t been a single night when you weren’t too drunk to even try conceiving Stan-- Constance. It is too late to try being a good father now, please… just go.” 

Eléonore looked exhausted. She gave Constance a sad look, a deep blush on her cheeks, then walked away, holding two of her daughters’ hands, with what was left of her dignity. Paulette swiftly followed. LeFou felt sad seeing her so embarrassed; she had always been a woman who cared about people’s opinions, she had tried to be perfect, to make her daughters as likely as possible to get a good marital situations, she did not deserve such a disgrace. 

Charles looked stunned too, more hurt and confused by his wife’s words than he had been by Gaston’s defense. He was lost, and his world shattered, but LeFou could not feel any ounce of pity for him as everything he was experiencing, Constance felt a thousand times worse. 

Now that Eléonore was gone, the street was silent, the crowd slowly dispersed. Nothing raunchy to see anymore, everyone went back to their occupation. Charles turned around and started to walk towards the edge of the woods. He didn’t even give Constance a last look, a proof that she had lost forever the pale figure of a father she had been burdened with. Gaston finally sheathed back his sword, still alert. 

Horse and carts passed in the streets again, people started chatting as they went back to their scheduled activities, soon they could only hear the usual sounds of the village, voices, birds, as if nothing had just happened. As if their lady had not been crushed by her parent’s quarrel. LeFou held her in his arms, unable to do more. Across the street, only two men were left. During the whole argument, Dick had never looked away from Constance; he did not care about a scandal LeFou was now certain he already knew everything about, he just worried about Constance. Tom seemed more clueless. Eventually, they nodded politely and went their way, bringing with them the answers they had.

Gaston was lost too, as he walked to his two lovers, but he didn’t seem to care about his own feelings, too upset with Constance’s tears. He swept her off her feet, offered to carry her back inside. 

“Thank you,” Constance sighed as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. 

.

In the house, LeFou heated water for a good cup of _camomille_ while Gaston settled on his largest chair, Constance still curled up in his lap. He awkwardly ran his hands on her shoulders, brushed her hair with his fingers. He didn’t know what to do, and selfishly LeFou was glad he had taken over because her tears were overwhelming. 

After a few minutes, Gaston let out an impatient sigh. “I’m desperate here, Constance, I don’t know what to do! I can’t stand seeing you like this!” 

LeFou shot him a dark glare Gaston didn’t notice. “What can I do, _ma douce_ , just tell me… do you need food? A kiss? A new dress? I-- I feel so powerless! What do you need?”

“Nothing,” Constance whispered, her voice breaking into a sob. “Just a shoulder to cry on.” 

Gaston tensed and for a second LeFou thought he was going to get angry, but he calmly blew through his nose, adjusted Constance on his arm to find a more comfortable position then nodded, “Fine, _mon amour_ , then you shall have it. Please, stay for as long as you need.” 

And he planted a gentle kiss to her forehead, brushed his fingers on her cheek to bring all the comfort he could. LeFou couldn’t help staring at them with a touched smile. Gaston would have once thought he didn’t have time to lose with tears and cries, and ladies’ feelings; he was now taking good care of her, pampering her, showing empathy as hard as it was for him. 

LeFou placed the kettle on the table and served the herbal tea in silence. The warm honey-sweetened beverage soothed their hearts as they slowly sipped it. After a few moments, he placed his hand on Constance’s.

“Forgive me, _mon aimée_ , but I have to ask. Why did you prevent Gaston from hurting him?” 

“I don’t know,” Constance finally admitted, shaking her head. “I should… I know that he’s hurt me for so long, that I never was the son he wished for and I’ve paid the price for that, but… as unfairly as he’s treated me, as angry and terrified as he makes me, I don’t manage to hate him. I don’t manage to want him hurt, or seek revenge, as much as I wish I did.” 

LeFou gently ran his hand on her shoulder, while Gaston looked down, just as saddened as he was. A part of him wanted to scream his anger, his rage to see his _promise_ so sad and miserable. No one was, and no one would ever be allowed to hurt her anymore. Had the decision been his, he would have gladly wiped Charles from the surface of the Earth by snapping his fingers, and yet, he knew from both their experiences that it was hard to break off all ties with the people you grew up with. This strange mix of love and pain was a burden shared by many. 

Constance put down her cup, got up, and announced, “I’m going to lay down for a while.” She sounded exhausted, empty. 

“May I come with you?” LeFou enquired as an offer for support. 

“Can you both hold me tight?” she asked, almost begging, as if all of her forces had left. 

Gaston jumped to his feet and gave her the warmest hug before leading her to their room. LeFou had seen him worked up before, excited, angry, furious, ecstatic but never so sad, and he could feel their lady’s tears resonated in Gaston’s heart, reminded him of scenes he would have rather forgotten. 

Constance whispered when they settled around her on the bed, in a comfortable embrace, “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” 

“Right now is a time for rest and processing,” LeFou murmured in her ear. “The world will wait for you, milady. _Je t’aime_ , don’t forget it…”

“ _Je t’aime aussi_ ,” Gaston added and entwined his fingers with LeFou’s, placing their hands under her breasts to feel her chest rise with every breath. 

.

 

Lazy morning hugs turned into a nap, then they shared a light lunch. Even leFou’s appetite was long gone. The atmosphere was not as gloomy as it was after the loud argument but too many questions were left unanswered. Constance had always had trouble figuring her identity, now that she felt so good in her life her fragile stability was threatened by Charles’ intervention. She was touching up her make-up, brushing with an expertise that never ceased to amaze LeFou some smoke onto her lashes to make them darker, when someone knocked on the door. Immediately, the three lovers tensed. Gaston leaned into the door to check through the peephole, a hand on his sword, but relaxed and quickly opened. 

“Richard!” Gaston exclaimed, trying to be courteous despite their terrible mood. 

Dick stepped into the house but sheepishly looked down when he noticed Constance, aware that she might refuse to see him now. He nodded, politely removed his hat. This time, LeFou promised himself he wouldn’t let Constance deal with it alone and he sat next to her to show his unconditional support. 

“Can we… have a word?” Dick mumbled. 

Constance waved her hand to invite him to sit down. “Sure…” 

“You’re mad at me,” Dick sighed as he took a chair. “I understand.” 

Gaston looked at the scene with a curious frown. When he gave him a puzzled look, LeFou understood that his dear long-time partner didn’t have a clue what was going on. LeFou would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so important. Constance folded her hands in her lap, took her time to answer.

“Actually… I’m not even angry,” she confessed. “I find that it explains so much.” 

Dick chuckled, scratched an invisible stain on his vest. “Yep, _petite_ , you said it.” 

“Is that why you’ve always taken such good care of me?” Constance finally looked him in the eyes and spoke in a voice that was so soft, so tender that it couldn’t bear any anger anymore. “As far as I remember, you were always there for me... Tom and you. You were the brothers I never had.” 

LeFou remembered how the trio had always been inseparable. The first time young Stanley had been drunk at the tavern, Dick had brought him back home then went to drink again with disgusting stains on his vest. He had taught Stanley to grow up, to pick clothes, to hunt; he had shaved him, encouraged him in pursuing ladies. Everything Charles should have done, and more. 

“Wait,” Gaston frowned. “I’m not sure to understand what is going on…?” 

LeFou bit his lower lip, this side of his lover was embarrassingly adorable. Constance looked up to him with a gentle smile. “This morning, _Maman_ told _Papa_ that I was not her daughter.” She then gave Dick a shy look. “Sorry, I can’t bring myself to call you _Papa_ already.” 

Dick simply nodded with an understanding smirk. Gaston’s eyebrows raised on his forehead as he took a hold of the situation. He pointed a shaking index at Richard.

“But… you have a wife? And your children?”

“That doesn’t make things easier, indeed,” Dick approved. 

“I need to sit down,” Gaston sighed, dramatically falling onto his largest chair, one leg on the armrest. 

Constance was nervously playing with one of the ribbons of her dress, lost in her thoughts. 

Dick scratched his scalp, “Your mother always was a good lady. She deserved so much better than your dad, but it’s not like we had much of a choice. We always tried to be careful, she had so much on her plate with your sisters already but we made one mistake and it turned out… beautifully.” 

With a deep sigh, Constance looked all around at the house, at her boyfriends; she slid the fabric of her dress between her fingers. “And what do you think of… all of this? Me, us?” 

This time Dick cracked a nostalgic smile. “I always knew you were different. Of course I wasn’t happy at first, I was afraid of the life you might end up with, your mother was so miserable already, I didn’t want you to suffer because of who you were. When you were that little boy who only wanted pink clothes…”

He pointed at her dress and LeFou saw Constance crunching her nose because it was peach, not pink, but she remained silent.

“... you were a weird lad, sometimes you wanted to be the princess the other boys would save, but then you stole their wooden sword and beat their asses with it. I always felt you were one of a kind. When you were tipsy at the tavern, and a waitress leaned in front of you, you always looked at her hairdo rather than her bosom.” 

Dick laughed and Constance smiled at the memories. When LeFou thought about it, retrospectively, he wondered how they all hadn’t seen before the lady she was destined to become. 

“You only had those eyes for LeFou,” Dick continued. “Ladies left you unmoved but when he talked to you, you were red like a cherry.” 

LeFou blinked, very surprised, then looked at Constance who was blushing and shaking her head with a soft embarrassed smile. 

“Not true,” she protested, her cheeks and ears a lovely shade of red. 

Dick reached for her hand, gently squeezed it. “It made me sad for you, because he was so in love with Gaston. Never would I have imagined things would end up this way between the three of you.” He added, pointing at her delicate outfit. “And then there was the castle. I wasn't happy to lead you there, I didn't know what we would find. You fought like a brave, you weren’t afraid, I was so proud of you!” 

Constance looked at him, touched by the good memories of the day that changed their lives.

“Let me tell you Tom and I weren’t proud when that wardrobe attacked us with its ribbons and wigs, we expected everything but... that! I remember how scared and humiliated we both were. We could never defeat a magic piece of furniture that disguised us like that!” 

Dick paused for a second, lost in his thoughts. “But when I turned around and saw you running after us, holding the bottom of your dress not to fall as if you had spent your life in these clothes… you were glowing! You looked so happy and comfortable, more proud and confident than I had ever seen you. I knew there would be no coming back, at least I hoped it, because I wanted you to keep that smile for all your life.” 

This time Constance had to look away, her pretty face flushed with emotions. She ran a hand down her neck, remained silent for a while. LeFou held her arm to try showing how protective and supportive he wanted to be with her. 

Eventually Constance took Dick’s hands in hers and lightly squeezed his fingers. “Thank you for everything. Some things do make sense now, even though I’m still confused.” 

“I am sorry I never told you before,” the middle-aged man sighed. “I wanted to protect you all, your mom, my family… yet I swear I’ll do whatever I can to help Eléonore now that her marriage is ruined. I hoped the truth would never hurt her.” 

LeFou placed his palm on the table. “We will help her too! We won’t let our dear girlfriend’s family starve.” 

“Girlfriend?” Dick laughed, his hand still in Constance’s. “I’m pretty sure Gaston called you his wife earlier.”

Gaston rolled his shoulders, leaned forward. “I might not always understand what’s happening but I sure don’t need a piece of paper to know that these two birds are my wife and my husband.”

Dick got up, gingerly put his hat back on. Constance hesitated for a while before she gave him a short but meaningful embrace.

With a raised eyebrow, Dick pointed at the hunter. “Hey, I did not forget your reputation. Doesn't matter how thick is your neck, I’ll snap it if you break her heart.”

Gaston got up to shake his hand with a cocky smirk. “Don’t bother old man, I’m much more afraid of your daughter’s temper than yours!” 

Constance laughed, back into LeFou’s warm embrace. They all politely greeted Dick as he left, their relationship now changed forever.

LeFou entwined his fingers to the pale and delicate fingers of his girl. She announced she was going to visit her mother this afternoon, and he buried his face in her hair to get closer, breathe in her scent, less than happy to see her go again. 

When she walked out the door, she looked composed, but LeFou could feel how tense and insecure she was. Months of building her confidence had been ruined by this boar of a father. He felt Gaston wrap his arms around him to share some of his strength and LeFou relaxed. They were three to handle this. They would fight prejudice and intolerance with the same passion with which they had been to battle against teapots. And they would win, right? Gaston always won in the end…

.

Allez, allez mes petites... = Come on, come on, girls!  
Oeufs à la coque = soft boiled eggs  
Quand il reviendra le temps de cerises = When the cherry season comes ~ an old French song  
Le Diable = The Devil  
Je t’en supplie = I’m begging you  
Merci = Thank you  
Tais-toi ! = Shut up!  
Camomille = chamomil  
Ma douce = Sweetheart  
Promise = Fiancee  
Je t’aime, je t’aime aussi = I love you, I love you too  
Petite = Little one, equivalent of calling her “lass”


	7. Constance ou la Vertu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No real summary for this chapter, this is what we were all waiting for... lots of fluff, self-consciousness, body worship and sex. ;) Click for bigger pictures, as you can guess some illustrations for this chapter are so very NSFW.

_Several years ago..._

Stanley looked through the window as Maman and his sisters walked down the street to the cart that would take them to Nevers. They would be away for two days, maybe three, and Stanley loved the freedom of having the house to himself. He could show that despite his young age, he could run a house like a real man, without Maman. Patiently, Stanley waited until his family was gone for real. He waited by the window for a long time after they were out of sight, heart racing in his chest. After half-an-hour he decided they would probably not come back anytime soon. The house was a safe place.

Stanley closed all the doors and checked every locket. He still had time before joining Tom and Dick at the market place so he sneaked into the only bedroom, opened the triplets’ luxurious closet. They owned such a beautiful wardrobe, so many coloured and frilly outfits! Stanley ran his hands on all the dresses, marveled at the fabrics, the laces and ribbons, the softness of velvet and silk. Feeling like a naughty little boy despite his recent coming of age and yet unable to refrain himself, he picked one of the dresses he knew suit him best and put it down on the bed. He hoped it would still fit, it had been a long time and too much physical activity since he had had the opportunity to play princess. 

His heart was bouncing in his chest as he removed his own clothes. This was a forbidden game: he made the rules and he was the only winner. The most intense fantasy. The dress embraced the too manly curves of his body, his muscular shoulders and strong chest, yet he finally felt good and feminine in those pink garments. Under the skirt, he had kept his boy’s underwear not to soil Laurette’s belongings. He untied his hair, spun around to look at his reflection. For a few minutes he was not Stanley, the young boy from Villeneuve but a woman… a real lady. Her name was Constance. People of the village found her prettier and much more interesting than that Belle everyone talked about. Stanley looked at himself in the mirror as he played pretend.

“Bonjour, bonjour…” Constance nodded with a polite bow. 

Constance was modest and cute, just as pretty as her sisters, if not more. All the men wanted to seduce her, ask Maman for her hand. She was wife material. Sometimes, when he looked at his sideburns and his less feminine features in the mirror, Stanley felt a lump in his throat, a sadness that it had to remain a forbidden dream, but he let Constance express herself and be braver than he would ever be. 

Constance was courted by all the men, she refused all of their invitations for she wasn’t interested. Sitting on the bed, she tilted her head back and ran her hands down her own neck. She brushed her throat, her chest with her fingertips.

“ _Monsieur LeFou_ ,” she whispered, feigning surprise and modesty. “What are you doing?” 

Her heart beat faster as she caressed her own stomach through the dress. “Oh… _monsieur LeFou_ , we can’t… we are not married…” 

She let her hands wander down, between her thighs. Rubbing her already hard bulge, she daydreamed about the large soft hands deflowering her, her breath catching in her throat as she pretended to refuse herself to him. “Oh please, I am not that kind of girl… oh, how strong you are, _mon ami_ … please have mercy… oh yes! Don’t stop! But please, Maman must never know...” 

.

Constance remembered with a smirk the memories of her lustful fantasies. It was only a few years ago but they felt like centuries. Had she known back in these days that she would once live as a woman with the unconditional support of her loving partners --one of whom was the gentleman she used to fantasize about--, her life would have been filled with hope and happiness much sooner. 

She let out a deep sigh, rested her arms on both sides of the wood tub. Even the warm water hadn’t lifted the mood she was in since Charles’ had made a scandal a week ago, and she was starting to wonder if moving the tub here wasn’t a waste of time. Gaston and LeFou had been nothing but white knights for her ever since, they had smothered her with attentions, gifts, tender words and lovely gestures. Dick too had been so supportive, as if he tried to apologize for not doing more for her but Constance couldn’t chase the feeling of shame created by her father’s harsh words. 

Constance slid deeper into the tub until water covered her mouth and brushed the bottom of her nose, strands of hair floating around her. She blamed herself for feeling bad despite the amazing men surrounding her. She had everything she could dream of, why couldn’t she be happy? The sound of the main door roused her from her thoughts, and she quickly grabbed a large cloth to place it over the tub to preserve her modesty. She heard footsteps in the living room, the sound of a belt being put down on the table, water and a cupboard being opened. 

As usual, Gaston asked after her with slight concern, “Constance _ma chérie_ , are you here?”

Constance smiled. “I’m taking a bath, _mon amour_! I am decent, you may come in!” 

She heard fumbling noises, a sword hitting the floor, and she bit her lower lip with a mischievous grin. 

“I’ll see you later then,” Gaston replied with a strangled voice. “Enjoy your bath.”

More than their husband, Gaston always kept his distances when she was in such a delicate posture. He seemed unsure to be able to remain a proper gentleman if he saw her in the nude. Constance sat back in the bath, warm water barely covering her breasts. The more she thought about it, the more she knew she wouldn’t hate that: Gaston making his move. Making her his. 

But.

What if he didn’t like what he saw? Constance tried to hush this little voice in her head, insecure and deadly wrong, but Charles had made the voice stronger and meaner these last days and all the hugs and kisses couldn’t do anything about it. What if they didn’t like her? Or worse, what if they liked her precisely because underneath it all she still looked like a boy? They were into men after all.

She startled when the door opened and LeFou entered, licking grape juice off his fingers. 

“ _Bonjour, la plus belle_ ,” he cheerfully greeted. “Anything I could do for you? More soap, hot water, a back rub maybe?” 

As she shook his head to show she was fine, LeFou walked to her and pulled a stool to sit next to the tub. He started to tell her about their morning, and she listened, happy to be entertained, for he made every mundane action sound exciting. 

After a while, he offered to wash her hair and for the first time, Constance heard herself accept his proposition. She usually refused, not wanting to be a chore for him. She somehow always felt like she had something to prove. LeFou moved his stool behind her and she could tell he was enthusiastic and happy to pamper her. She tilted her head back as gentle hands encouraged her to find the right position.

“Perfect,” he whispered adoringly and she wasn’t sure he talked about the position, or about her. “Tell me if I’m too rough.”

Constance blushed, soft hands untangling her hair to get her whole head wet. She could never tell him how she used to daydream about his roughness. Now she enjoyed his soft side way too much. A soft groan escaped her throat as he flattened her hair back on her head, the plump pads of his palms gently running over her skin. 

“Feeling good?” he asked in a hopeful tone. 

Constance smiled, eyes closed, fully present to the moment. “Like a princess…” 

“You can ask me anytime,” LeFou assured. “I love washing Gaston’s hair too. Your well-being means everything to me.” 

“And yours to us,” Constance purred. 

She felt putty between his hands, relaxed. He covered his hands in soap then applied it to all her hair, softly sliding it between his fingers. Constance could fall asleep if she were not careful, the tender ministrations made her feel so good, loved and cared for. LeFou gathered all of her long strands on top of her head to form a small hill with foam, then started massaging her scalp with his fingertips.

“Oh, _nom de Dieu_ …” Constance moaned, immediately placing her hands on her mouth to cover the already gone profanity and her lustful tone. 

A small amused laugh proved she had been heard by her suitor. It only encouraged him to insist, to push more on all the sides of her head, rub small circles over her most sensitive spots. Constance fought to keep her breath steady, she couldn’t contain purrs and soft growls as fingernails gently scratched her scalp. Her body was bent, a good tension, not like the one that had made her uncomfortable for the past few days. And when his hands left her head to stroke her neck, Constance was panting, warm like a pussy at the beginning of spring. 

“You make me feel so good,” she whispered, stunned that she hadn’t thought about it before. Only her partners could lift that weight off her shoulders. She dared opening her eyes to look up to LeFou’s focused face above her, took a deep breath. “This is the most erotic moment I’ve ever known.” 

LeFou cracked a touched smile; he bit his lower lip before kissing the tip of her nose. “And I’m delighted to share such intimacy with you, _mon aimée_.”

[ ](http://gaellec.com/heberg/hairwash.jpg)

She enjoyed the warm hands on her shoulders for a while, then tilted her head back again so that LeFou could rinse her. Always careful, he cleaned her up with clear water, then used a soft cloth to dry the shell of her ears before he quickly ran his fingers in her hair to untangle whatever knots might be there.

When he was done, Constance sat straighter in the tub then turned slightly to look at him. 

“There’s a confession I must make,” she said softly. She wasn’t sure how to bring that up, but she was already naked, bathing in front of him, and even though water and cloths hid most of her, she wanted to let her soul bare for him. 

LeFou frowned with a pout as he dried his hands. “If you’re feeling a bit… thrilled, do not be ashamed, it often happens to Gaston too. I won’t take offense, quite the contrary.” 

“No,” Constance laughed, looking down with a blush. Well, yes, there was that too, but she was not ashamed to react to her boyfriend’s touch. “This is not what I want to talk about.” 

She wiggled in the tub to get a more comfortable position as LeFou scooted closer. He was serious and concerned, ready to listen as always. Constance crossed her arms on the edge of the tub.

“I… If I may be honest with you, I am slightly afraid. Afraid of getting closer to you two.” 

LeFou frowned, processing the information. “Afraid? That… we might hurt you? That we wouldn’t treat you right?” 

“No, I know you would never,” Constance assured. “I know you’re gentlemen.” 

She took a deep breath and placed her chin on her closed fists. For a few seconds she remained silent to search for her words, gather her courage. She then looked him in the eyes not to lose a single second of his reaction. 

“When I’m naked before you, what will you think of me? Without the dresses, the bows, the corset, the undergarment, when it’s all gone and all that’s left looks like a boy without makeup and a good hairdo… will you still see me as a girl?” 

LeFou’s eyebrows rose on his forehead and his mouth opened on a sorry pout, visibly upset and overwhelmed by the deepest meaning of her words

“Oh, Constance…” He placed his hands on her cheeks and looked right at her to make sure she listened, as if he were about to scold her. “Constance, _amour de nos vies_ , get that idea out of your pretty head right now.” 

He seemed distraught as he held her like a porcelain doll and solemnly got down on one knee by the tub. “We won’t see you as ‘a girl’, Constance, because you’re not…” 

Seeing the fear in her eyes he quickly added, “You’re a lady, our wife. And shall come the time when we are lucky to bed you, we will treat you as such, as you deserve to be treated.” 

He kissed her forehead. “Like a lady...”

Her nose. “Our queen.”

He marked a period by planting his lips on hers with a sad groan. Constance melted in his embrace, more comforted by his words than she had ever felt before. Why did she hesitate so much when he obviously loved to give her the praise she needed to get back on the saddle? 

She dared murmuring against his lips, “What about Gaston?”

LeFou snorted between soft kisses. “Don’t talk about Gaston, he’s a fool for you, he’s eating out of your hand.” 

Constance gasped as he gently pushed her away and shushed her with his index on her now wet lips. She looked at his serious gaze.

“ _Ma chérie_ , what mistake did we do to let you think we don’t love you for who you are?” 

He was serious, he meant it, and Constance felt sorry for leading him into thinking it was his fault. She hated being so vulnerable and insecure. Why was it easier to hunt and fight than to make love? The only thing making it difficult was her fear of judgement, but which judgement would she get? LeFou’s love and compliments? Gaston’s cheeky innuendos? What was it to fear?

Feeling brave and confident, and secretely wanting more of his loving, Constance grabbed the hems of her partner’s collar and kissed him as she got up, taking him with her. LeFou stumbled but willingly followed the kiss all the way up. Constance ran her fingers in his hair, through the damp sweat of his neck. She broke the kiss to give him a shy smile. LeFou looked her in the eyes with a dreamy grin. She could get the second he understood her state. His lashes fluttered but he didn’t break eye contact. 

“Constance,” he whispered as if it were a secret. “You are naked.” 

“Yes,” she smirked, amused by the urgency of his tone. 

LeFou waited a few seconds, savouring the moment, the trust and intimacy. Finally, he took her hands, still lost in her eyes. “May I take a look?” 

“You may…” 

Constance liked that he asked for her permission, it made her feel less vulnerable, more confident. She watched as he took a step back, still holding her fingers in his, and ran his eyes down her whole body, then up again with a mesmerized smile. 

“Wow,” he breathed. 

He looked down again, let out a breathless laugh, then up to her face. 

“Venus came out of water!” 

Constance laughed and pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around his neck. He buried his face in her throat with a strangled gasp. 

“I feel so selfish,” she confessed against his ear. “But I love your praise so much…” 

“Selfish?” he asked, looking up. “My…. wait, you love it? I--I’ve been holding out all this time not to scare you!”

“Scare me?” Constance laughed. “Your compliments give me life, _mon amour_. You brighten my days with your poet talk.” 

“But there’s so much you haven’t heard yet,” LeFou promised, holding her naked frame in his strong arms. He punctuated his sentence with kisses on her cheeks and jaw. “That you’re a vision from heaven, that I wish nothing more than waking up every morning in your arms… I vow not to leave a single inch of your body unkissed… I vow to put your pleasure before mine. To worship you like the goddess you are…”

“You make me feel like one,” Constance sighed, hypnotized by his low voice, a pleasure to the ears.

His hands brushed her back, making her arch and press closer to his fully closed body. Constance gently held what she could reach, his hair, his shoulders, as he kept whispering everything he thought about her, her passion, her fierce nature, her strength. She wanted to taste his mouth once again but LeFou started kissing her throat and Constance let out a surprised squeal. His lips and teeth felt so good she could only pant in ecstasy. 

After what felt like the sweetest eternity, Constance managed to catch her breath long enough to whimper, “Isn’t this the moment we should call Gaston?” 

LeFou let out a huff, his lips stretching into a funny smirk. “He can hear two bunnies going at it five miles away but he still hasn’t guessed what we are doing here? Heh, you have such a strong effect on him!”

Constance took one of his hands and slid it down her ribs, as an invitation to keep exploring. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

Turning his head towards the door, LeFou shouted, “Gaston? Gaston! We might need you here…!” 

“Do you? May I come in, is Constance decent?” Gaston asked politely, his muffled voice echoing through the walls.

Constance couldn't help giggling as her lover nibbled on her throat. “Definitely not! Come here, don’t let us wait!”

There were footsteps and the creaking noise of the door. Constance shivered as LeFou’s large soft hands traced the contours of her naked body. She heard Gaston choke as he found them in a rather unexpected posture. 

“I’m sorry I started without you,” LeFou apologized with a shrug. “Would you be willing to share this delight with me?” 

Now he spoke like she was a piece of cake, and he tasted her just as well. Constance heard Gaston walk closer but his gait was slow and unassured. 

“What do I do?” the brave hunter whispered in an uncertain tone.

LeFou stopped kissing her and rolled his eyes. It was the very first time in months Constance saw him lose patience with his darling husband. 

“I’ll have you know I am not more experienced than you in this area,” LeFou mumbled before pointing first at her neck, then at the small of her back. “Mouth here, hands there.” 

Constance let out a happy laugh, somehow reassured to learn that they had never been a trio before. Her voice broke into a moan when she felt Gaston’s strong body embrace her from behind. His hands held her waist, slid down until they could knead the curves of her bottom. Now two mouths covered her throat and neck with deep kisses, and she had to move her hips away from LeFou’s soft belly, afraid to end way too quickly. 

The sensations were overwhelming. She turned her head to meet Gaston’s mouth in a devouring kiss. 

“I always thought you were innocent and virtuous,” Gaston teased against her ear. 

Constance nodded, amused by his tone. “Of course. The perfect housewife, this is why you love me.” 

“I love you because you never cease to amaze me,” Gaston growled possessively in her neck. 

He ran his hands up her sides, cupped her chest hard enough to make her breasts look rounder, his fingers forming the softest corset. LeFou used this opportunity to run first his tongue flat over her left nipple, before flicking the right one with the tip of his tongue. Constance closed her eyes with a gasp.

“Oh, _les garçons_ !” 

“Too much?” her soft husband chuckled against her breast. As much as she wanted to say yes because the new sensations were overwhelming, Constance only managed to place her hand on his neck to press him closer to her, silently begging for more. She arched her back to meet Gaston’s warm body, hearing his feverish breathing against her ear. Every deep kiss, every lick and nibble made her legs weaker, her moans stronger, and her lady parts even more wet. 

Eventually she managed to find the will to slightly push them away, long enough to step out of the tub onto the floor now slippery from having been splashed with too much water. She turned around to finally see her other lover. Gaston, usually so strong and confident, looked just as impressed as she was. She could tell he had only been with LeFou for so long he had forgotten how to deal with someone else. Or maybe was it her he didn’t know how to love, because she was different and… Gaston chased all her doubts away by pulling her into a long passionate kiss. 

Constance shivered, almost shaking in his arms as she pressed herself against his solid frame. He cradled her head in his hand, possessively kneaded her ass with the other, a soft growl escaping his throat. She hated when they even tried to tell her what to do in her everyday life, yet Constance was slowly realizing how she loved when they were in charge, in the privacy of their bedroom. 

She broke the kiss, grabbed Gaston’s shirt, panting, “Why am I the only one naked?” 

“Because you’re a _vilaine fille_?” Gaston replied with a cocky smirk, annoying enough to get them both to snort. 

“Pffft… I wonder what that makes you, then!” Constance snapped back as she started to unbutton his vest and shirt. 

One by one the buttons opened, revealing more and more of the strong chest underneath, her knuckles ghosting over his warm skin. She had already seen and brushed her hands on him but never had she actually touched him. And now he was there just for her to discover, to explore with her fingertips, like some new territory she would gladly colonize. 

Constance ran her hands on his chest, the muscular curves of his pectorals, his collarbone, his ribs. The natural lines of his muscles contrasted with the several scars, some really old, some more recent. When she palmed his stomach, Gaston flexed his abs on purpose, then laughed at her delighted squeak. Constance allowed herself to brush his navel, softly scratched the muscles that vibrated under her touch. He looked like a painting, yet felt so real.

“What is it?” Gaston asked, noticing her cheeky smile.

“For once,” she confessed, “I own something that would make my sisters jealous.”

Gaston raised his eyebrows, replied with an amused tone. “You… own me?” 

Constance only winked at him, then leaned in to bury her face in the hollow of his chest and brush her lips over his hairs. How could such a symbol of his manliness be so soft and delicate? She let the curls tickle her nose in a gentle caress. 

“You taste so good,” she whispered reverently as she covered his throat with kisses. Gaston’s shivers and low purrs encouraged her to keep going. He seemed to enjoy it as much as she did, and as her fingers found his nipples, Constance felt proud to feel him so enthralled. 

“Go ahead, make them jealous,” Gaston invited in a low shaky voice. 

Constance untied his hair to run her hands in the long strands. She accidentally pulled harder to kiss him and Gaston moaned in her mouth. He was aroused, feverish, hot, the most desired man in town, and it was all because of her. Now that was a nice confidence boost! 

The kisses and heated caresses lasted for a while, skin to skin, hearts beating in unison, until LeFou let out a dreamy sigh. Constance looked at him, catching her breath, as he framed the scene with his open hands. 

“Venus and Apollo…” he exclaimed happily, like the proud director of an opera in Paris. 

Constance tilted her head towards him, touched by the admiration in his eyes. “What about you? Who are you then?” 

“I guess that makes me… Vulcan?” LeFou modestly suggested. 

Gaston shook his head with a disgusted pout. “The ugly blacksmith? Are you out of your mind, _mon petit Fou_?” 

He tsked and left Constance’s embrace to sneak up behind their dear husband and remove his hair tie. 

“You are Bacchus, God of parties and really good times…” he stated, running his fingers in the thick dark locks. 

Constance contained a smile at Gaston’s un-academic definition of the God, then added as she leaned in to kiss his cheek, “You are… God of wine and decadent dances…” 

LeFou tilted his head back to grant Gaston access to his neck, willingly letting them do whatever they wanted to him. 

The hunter removed his thick velvet bow and unbuttoned the top of his vest and white shirt, before he licked a long stripe down his throat, whispering, “Sensual… God of every pleasure in life...” 

“Inebriating,” Constance added, hands and mouth all over her plump lover. “Who makes women go wild…” 

LeFou mumbled a quick “I really don’t deserve you”, eyes closed and face flustered. Constance was kissing his throat, in love with the scent of his skin, when she felt and heard his pained gasp, almost a groan. She looked up to see Gaston's bare teeth digging into the pale skin of LeFou’s shoulder, leaving a red mark. 

“Did you… bite him?” she enquired with wide eyes, unsure what to think of it. 

Gaston winked at her and LeFou looked down through dark lashes, panting. 

“Worry not, _ma chérie_ , I really love it.” 

Constance took a few seconds to process the information. She blinked as Gaston covered with kisses the mark he had left on his husband’s body. Like some strange farmer marking his herd. She nuzzled LeFou’s throat, tentatively gave it a lick, her teeth finding the way. So close to him she could feel his heart beat in his chest, faster and faster as she nibbled and sucked on his soft skin. Without a warning she bit down harder, her teeth met with the resistance of his flesh. LeFou wailed, a loud plea, but he wrapped his arms around her to show he didn’t wish to stop. 

He shook with mixed pain and pleasure, his beautiful voice raising in falsettos. Constance covered the red and purple mark with kisses, slightly dizzy with the sensation of power she now felt. She was starting to understand so many things about her lovers, the intoxicating pleasure of their power dynamics, and even though the burning circle on his skin already meant it, Constance couldn’t help growling “Mine...”. 

“Yes, yes, _ma dame_ , all yours,” he replied hastily, beautifully open to her touch.

More confident this time, Constance undid his vest and shirt at a fast pace, eager to feel him against her. He stammered and blushed when she stripped him from his clothes, and by the time she was done pushing his breeches down his delightfully chubby thighs, his face was crimson red. He looked frozen, staring at her with wide eyes. 

“What is it?” Constance asked, throwing herself at him again, crawling against his naked body. “Don’t expect me to play it shy now, _mon amour_ , I’ve lost enough time already.” 

She kissed him but LeFou replied gingerly, his touch was more awkward, he was almost shaking. Constance had to refrain from rubbing herself on the soft spot between his stomach and his thigh. She could feel his moist member against her skin, desperate for attention. 

“Are you okay?” she managed to whisper and stroked his arms. “Are you cold? Do you want to get closer to the fire?” 

“No, I… no,” he simply babbled. 

Gaston wrapped his large arms around his lover’s neck and translated for their girl, “See, even though he’s a paragon of confidence in public, our dear husband can be much more self-conscious in the bedroom. Especially in front of a pretty lady… well, I suppose, it’s not like there’s been many after all.” 

“Self-conscious?” Constance exclaimed like it was the silliest idea ever --and to her, it was. She ran her palms down his chest, curled her hands on his wide belly. The soft flesh formed small fat rolls between her fingers as she pushed and she giggled. “There’s just so much of you to have and to hold, I love it… I want it all!” 

She pulled LeFou to her, leaning into him to kiss him hard on the lips, while Gaston stepped away to give her free rein. Her words and actions seemed to comfort LeFou because he soon responded to the deep kisses with renewed passion. Once again he touched and explored every part of her body he could reach, making her arch and moan in his mouth. Sometimes, their hips met and the sensations were almost too intense. Constance held onto her lover’s hair, his shoulders. His pale skin was flushed in various places, from arousal and too much kissing, yet she wanted more, more of his taste, his smell, the softness of his curves, the manly strength of his body. 

“I want you so much,” she growled against his ear before she traced the shell with the tip of her tongue, even though she still only had a theoretical idea of what she should do to him.

A voice raised behind her, followed by a jerky wet noise. “Yes, have him please…” 

They both turned their heads to look behind. Constance raised an eyebrow, not sure she was entertained or slightly upset. “What on Earth are you doing back there?”

“What?” Gaston sighed. His breeches pooling around his ankles, his hand was moving fast over his hard cock. “You two are the most sinful sight. Don’t mind me, please go on!” 

Constance snorted while LeFou had a frank laugh. She reluctantly let go of him, promising with a quick look that she was not done with him, and walked to Gaston. Raising her chin to try looking taller, she brushed her fingertip along the downside of his erection. As she should have expected, touching someone else’s was very different from what she knew. He was hot and hard under her fingers, yet so soft to the touch, an iron dick in a velvet foreskin. 

“You shouldn’t play with such big guns, _fillette_ ,” Gaston smirked, cocky, annoying, and furiously tempting. 

“Why is that, _jeune homme_ , afraid of unintentional discharge?” Constance replied teasingly as she wrapped her hand around him. 

[ ](http://gaellec.com/heberg/biggun.jpg)

She gave him a light stroke, then another. Gaston didn’t move, didn’t flinch, impassible, as if he tried to prove she couldn’t subdue him. Three strokes, four. He was still standing straight, hands behind his back, hips slightly tilted, so annoyingly proud of himself. At the fifth stroke, Constance flicked her wrist and squeezed the soft head of his cock in a move she knew all too well for having used it so many times on herself. 

Gaston’s strong mask fell and he closed his eyes with a loud gasp before he collapsed and buried his face in her neck, whining her name.

“I won,” Constance bragged, pumping harder. 

“You won a battle, but you won’t win the war,” Gaston promised, quite an exciting threat. 

With a grunt he took her mouth in a feral kiss then lifted her up in his arms. Constance wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling his hardness under her bottom, so close and yet too far. 

“Wow, sh-- shouldn’t we slow down a little?” LeFou carefully advised, trying to protect his fiancee like the gentleman he always was. “Maybe…”

Constance reached out to him, still wrapped around Gaston. “No slowing down, _mon coeur_. I’m tired of being a girl... come here and make me a woman.” 

She barely had time to kiss him before Gaston turned around and walked them to the large bed. They all fell together on the soft mattress, both her men covering her with kisses. Constance felt feverish as they set her whole body on fire with their hands and tongues. She tried to give them back but couldn’t. Gaston was still over her, between her legs, covering her with his muscular body while LeFou remained on the side, touching them both as much as he could. 

Constance was wondering what she could do, what she should, when Gaston pressed his stomach against hers, his erection aligned with hers, and pushed hard to share the friction.

With a gasp she arched and gripped his shoulders. The sensations that had been so excruciatingly soft and shallow around her groin were now stronger. More direct. She let her head roll on the side, eyes closed.

“ _Oh mon Dieu!_ ” she moaned. “Do that again!”

She managed to look at her lover through her lashes, saw the genuinely happy smile on his face. 

“I think I found something Mademoiselle enjoys,” he proudly told LeFou as if their dear husband hadn’t witnessed the scene. He snapped his hips forward once more, making Constance jerk and cling to him. 

“More!” she ordered through gritted teeth. 

She looked up as Gaston didn’t comply. Propped on his arms, over her, he was giving her the most enamored look. Constance could have shouted in frustration. She didn’t want a prince charming right now, she craved a beast to take care of her needs! 

“What if I don’t?” he teased, long hair dangling around his ridiculously handsome face. 

“Try me,” she snarled and dug her nails into the solid muscles of his ass. 

“Haha, just wait a minute _ma belle_ ,” Gaston laughed before he looked at LeFou and invited with a nod. “Come with us, will ya?” 

LeFou nodded back, licking his lips, and got up from the bed to grab something in the nightstand. Looking around, Constance noticed the wonderful view of her lover’s backside she could get in the large mirror and now she understood why the wardrobe was installed there. She tried to wiggle under Gaston to get more friction, making him laugh.

Soon, she felt LeFou’s soft hands join her on Gaston’s round bottom. She blinked in surprise. LeFou popped the cork of a small vial and the smell of oil spread across the room. She peeped into the mirror to see him stroke himself with oil, then carefully insert one, then two fingers between Gaston’s cheeks. 

[ ](http://gaellec.com/heberg/three.jpg)

Now that was something she didn’t expect. She knew Gaston loved to be taken care of, she had seen them, she knew he was not always the dominant type, quite the contrary, but she didn’t think it would go this far, and it only made him even more attractive. She felt Gaston relax and purr above her, a look of pure bliss on his face. 

“What?” he panted, seeing her puzzled look. 

Constance admitted with a shrug, “I must say I didn’t think you would be… this guy?” 

“I’m a guy of many talents,” he bragged, before he added more seriously. “Do you find that disturbing?” 

Constance nibbled on his earlobe and promised in a low voice, “... I find that arousing.” 

For a few moments they panted against each other’s cheek before LeFou gave a tentative thrust. Gaston let out the most erotic groan. Constance was certain she could have reached ecstasy just seeing his face right now, but on top of that his cock was grinding against hers, making it impossible for her to even think. Her body reacted on itself, arching, grasping, burning. 

“ _Oui_...” she whimpered. 

Gaston arched and turned his head to meet LeFou’s mouth for a long wet kiss. Constance’s eyes closed on their own but she didn’t want to miss a second of the show. 

“Poor you,” LeFou smiled, breathless, as he started to impose his rhythm on both of them. “Trapped in the middle, used from both sides…” 

“I know I have the best place,” Gaston laughed. “Don’t rub it in my face. We’ll switch next time.” 

“I’m not jealous,” LeFou replied before he looked at Constance, bit his lower lip and admitted, “Well… maybe a little, but who wouldn’t?” 

His tone made it clear he held no grudges and was nothing but happy to see his two lovers sharing such intense moments. Constance pushed her heels into his hips to encourage him like she would spur her horse. She shivered as LeFou grabbed her thighs to hold on and pushed forward. Gaston rested his forehead on her shoulder with a loud moan. 

Constance closed her eyes; everything was too difficult now, she couldn’t think, couldn’t catch her breath, only surrender to their thrusts. She tilted her hips, accidentally found the perfect angle for her shaft to grind against Gaston’s flat stomach. She could feel him against her, wetting her skin, his large hands holding her shoulders. 

“Yes… please,” she begged, desperate for more. “Oh, hmmm don’t stop…” 

With her eyes closed, her other senses strongly increased. She could smell their scent, their sweat. She could feel their bodies tense and get warmer, sticky as the grind together. She arched under each thrust, rocked by the wet sound of skin slapping against skin, Gaston’s low voice and LeFou’s higher tones. 

Her legs wrapped tightly around Gaston’s waist as she got closer to her release.There was no winning the war anymore, she would let them do anything they wanted as long as she could reach her peak soon. She didn’t even bother being a good lover anymore, she didn’t want to wait for them, she wanted it all. Now. Her sighs got deeper as she felt the fire burn in her core. 

Gaston bit down her throat and she tightly secured her fingers in his hair. Her other hand found the sheet and gripped it hard. 

“ _Oui…_ ” she moaned. “ _Oh, oui_ … oh!” 

She gasped and thrusted up to increase the pressure as she came hard, careless. The whole village could hear her for all she cared. Her moans turned into inarticulate shouts, waves of pleasure washing over her tense body. As if her voice was the signal they waited for, both Gaston and LeFou let out loud gasps and their moves became erratic above her. 

The friction was almost unbearable but she bit her lower lip as Gaston pushed against her harder and harder until he tensed, froze and spilled himself where she had already made a mess. Constance managed to open her eyes fast enough to see their handsome faces as they came. 

They looked both happier than ever and distraught. Manly and weak. Beautiful in every way. Constance opened her arms to welcome Gaston as he crashed on top of her, burying his face in her neck. He felt deliciously heavy and warm above her. 

LeFou rested his hands on hips for a few seconds to catch his breath before he rolled on the mattress to join them. Turning her head towards him, Constance was so close they could share small tender kisses. 

She carefully stretched her tired legs. Gaston’s fast heartbeat echoed in her chest, their stomachs moved in unison as they breathed hard. She could feel herself go limp, just as her lovers did. Fingers running through LeFou's hair, she pondered. So this was it? Making love? Why was it such a taboo? Especially for women… why were they supposed to stay away from such pleasures? It was almost as if women were not remotely allowed to be happy. 

Gaston kissed a trail up her throat to her jaw and chin. “ _Je t’aime… je t’aime tellement_ …” 

LeFou shook his head and made a face as Constance seemed confused. “Don’t worry, he’s always like that. The aftermath makes him cheesy.”

Gaston looked up and pulled his husband in to kiss him on his perfect little nose. “I never heard you complain.” 

Constance closed her eyes with a grin, welcoming their kisses and gentle touches. They remained on the bed together for a long time, brushing their fingertips on each other, humming and whispering sweet nothings. The feverish hurry had been replaced with tenderness and patience, their bodies craving intimacy. 

Constance frowned as LeFou got up, she protested with a pout, but he quickly wet a cloth into the still warm water in the tub before he came back. Gaston reluctantly propped himself up then away from Constance, and LeFou started to wash her sticky stomach. 

“Thank you,” Constance purred, arms resting above her head. “You really didn’t have to.”

To be fair, the caress was exactly what she needed and it felt good to be clean. The cloth wiped her stomach, her crotch, her armpits. This was almost even more intimate than what they had just done.

“Was it all good for you?” LeFou enquired. “Please, do tell us when something doesn't feel or sound good for you, this is all about your joy.” 

“Hmmm I’ll remember that,” Constance promised. “This was all kinds of perfect. You’ve been so good to me…” 

She looked as LeFou patiently cleaned Gaston, reverently. She admired the looks they still gave each other, after all these years they seemed more in love than ever. When he was done, LeFou took another cloth to wipe himself but Gaston quickly shook his head with a reprobative noise and urged his husband to lay down and let him do the part. Gaston seemed to know his body by heart, every curve, every hollow he had touched and seen grow for all their lives. Something about the way they cherished each other made her fall even more in love. 

She crawled on the large mattress to join them, and soon her hands and lips traveled all over LeFou’s pale skin, leaving kisses, touching, feeling the thousand ways his body was unique. Now that the most urgent desires were satisfied, she could enjoy more the simple touches. 

“I wish I could stay with you forever,” she whispered, laying her head on the broad belly. “If you’ll have me.” 

The answer came quickly, blurted by two voices. “We do!” 

Constance let out a happy sigh. Everything was perfect, in this very moment, and she wished it would never end. 

...

Monsieur LeFou = Mister LeFou  
Mon ami = my friend  
Bonjour, la plus belle = Hello, the prettiest  
Nom de Dieu = “Jesus!” ; litt. In the name of God, a unholy exclamation that was forbidden back in the days  
Mon aimée = Beloved  
Oh, les garçons ! = Oh, guys!  
Vilaine fille = Naughty girl  
Mon petit Fou = My little fool  
Fillette = Little girl  
Damoiseau = Old school. “Young man, teenager”  
Mon coeur = Sweetheart  
Oh mon Dieu ! = Oh my God!  
Oui = Yes  
Je t’aime tellement = I love you so much


	8. Déchirée, je suis une femme partagée - (part. 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Constance, Gaston and LeFou attend a party at the castle for Adam's birthday. This is a huge first step for Constance, but things do not go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who could have believed this "chapter", or let's say this arc since it's going to be three chapters, would be finished one day? Not me, let's call it the miracle of the new year. Good things come to those who wait, and I hope you won't be disappointed. This arc has got its share of transphobia and discusses topics such as womanhood, motherhood, biological essentialism, mother figures, and plenty of bigotry. But I somehow feel like you really don't care and want to jump to the story already so go, and let me know what you think. ;)

 

In the cart going at a comfortable pace on the wide forest path, Constance let herself be rocked by the slow motion of the cabin. She was anxious and excited to go back to the castle, for the first time as herself. She knew there was nothing to fear, most of the castle’s inhabitants were relatively tolerant and open-minded now, and they would never hurt someone invited by Belle and Adam for the Prince’s birthday, yet she couldn’t help bouncing her leg nervously as they got closer. 

She looked at Gaston, sitting on the bench across from her; with his dark red suit, his freshly shaven face and his shiny tied hair, he was even more gorgeous than usual. Constance had never seen him dressed up for a ball before, a sight she wondered how she could have lived so long without. He looked like a noble gentleman, but when he noticed her staring and winked at her, he reminded her what a naughty husband he could be in private. 

“You look handsome,” Constance whispered as the cart took a turn. 

“I do,” Gaston replied with a cocky grin, checking himself out in the window. “But I’m not the only one.” 

Constance gave him a touched smile and turned her head towards her other lover who, sitting by her side, was moisturizing his already soft hands with a mixture of his composition. She would never forget that first dance they had shared at the castle more than a year ago, her joy when she had heard of the two ladies in love trying to conspire to dance together at the ball. Constance, still in her old persona, had offered to help them get together by switching partners, little did she know lending them a hand would lead her so far. 

LeFou’s suit embraced all his curves, his strong body looked wonderful when wrapped in delicate fabrics, he was as sophisticated as possible. He noticed her gaze, replied with a tender smile. 

Constance knew they were just as nervous as her: even though Adam and Belle themselves had invited Gaston, the situation promised to be awkward at best, if not possibly disastrous. Constance was slightly afraid. She wanted to go there, have a good time, it was one of her rare occasions to attend a ball with her husbands and wear a splendid dress, to socialize and be a dame, not just some village girl, and yet she knew if someone disrespected one of her chéris she would not be able to remain a proper lady. 

She gave Gaston and LeFou another admirative gaze then looked at her reflection in the window of the carriage. She touched up her hair, wiped a tiny spot on her cheekbone, pursed her lips. Was she good enough for them? She did not want to make them look less stunning than they were just because she looked… average at most? LeFou scooted closer to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in her neck.

“You look amazing, ma chérie. You are perfect the way you are, please, try to relax, worry does not suit you.” 

Constance leaned into his embrace, feeling like she had not touched him in too long, since she had slipped into this huge dress. This was not the case. Ever since they had made love for the first time four long days ago, they had not been able to take their hands off each other. And the more they touched, the more they kissed, the more they needed contact and affection; the sweetest addiction. 

LeFou slid his hand around her waist, started to pull the bottom of her dress up her legs. “You know what you might need though?” 

“Again?” Constance snickered, rolling her eyes but not pulling away from him. 

“Just a little more pink on your cheeks,” LeFou suggested against her ear. He slowly pulled the dress higher and she suppressed a shiver as delicate fingertips brushed her bare thigh. “And I know exactly how to fix that…” 

Constance looked down as Gaston raised his eyebrows, biting his lower lip with a look that meant it sounded like a plan. 

“In the coach?” she asked again, voice shaking as soft fingers massaged her thigh. 

Thanks to Gaston, her legs, her stomach, her chest and her armpits were smooth today. The hairs that usually didn’t bother her felt out of place in that ball gown, she did not feel confident with a hairy cleavage and had received some help earlier to get rid of it. She felt younger, more feminine and even though she would not go through this long process often, she enjoyed the outcome. Judging by their gentle touches since this morning, both her husbands loved it too. 

“If you’re tired of our attentions, just say it. You’re allowed not to want to. You don’t owe us anything, and we’ve been very demanding lately. A ‘no’ will always be a ‘no’ milady,” LeFou added, giving Gaston a look Constance did not understand.

She leaned back against him, spreading her legs to leave just enough room for his hand. “You know I crave it,” she grumbled. “Just close the curtains, will you?” 

His little laugh was annoyingly proud and superior, echoing against her neck. She let herself go as a soft hand wrapped around her. 

.

It didn’t take long for her to be blushing hard and having to fix her hair once again, all without having broken eye contact with Gaston, which made LeFou’s touch even more intense. Constance noticed the light was different outside the cart and she quickly looked behind the curtains. 

“Oh,” she exclaimed, “We’re out of the forest already! Should we stop the carriage and go to some quiet place so that I can return the favor?” 

LeFou shook his head with a reassuring smile. “No need for reciprocity, my love, your pleasure is our best reward.” 

“But…”

Gaston raised an eyebrow as he pretended to pick his nails. “I’ll simply add this to your tab.” 

He punctuated his sentence with a smirk that faded as soon as Constance simpered, looking strangely like her sisters with both hands on her chest, “Oh Monsieur Gaston, what will a poor girl like me have to do to make up for such generosity?” 

He eventually laughed but Constance caught the predatory flash in his eyes and she promised herself to keep in mind how he liked her to play innocent. This could be entertaining.

They pulled the curtains open once LeFou had helped cleaning her and arranged her dress, and Constance could feel the excitement rising as they got closer to the castle. The towers were first seen from afar, then the magnificent building appeared, looking more luminous and majestic than ever. 

Constance noticed the way Gaston’s throat moved as he swallowed heavily. He was really uncertain of the kind of welcome he would receive. Lost in her thoughts and contemplation she didn’t look at LeFou until Gaston did. Constance’s heart skipped a beat at the sad sight, a single tear rolling down his round cheek. He was looking away, trying not to show his sadness, but the sight of the castle always brought terrible memories back. Gaston immediately leaned forward and pulled him into a warm remorseful embrace. 

“I am so sorry,” Gaston sighed with a strangled voice. “I know I hurt you.” 

LeFou responded to his hug, holding onto him like a castaway to a board, but did not find the strength to deny his statement. Gaston gently kissed the tears off his cheeks, then held him some more, rocking him against his chest like a child. 

“You forgave the unforgivable, my love, and for that I’ll eternally be grateful.” 

“Let’s not talk about it,” LeFou whimpered, rubbing his face in the red velvet of Gaston’s coat. 

Gaston took a delicate handkerchief out of his pocket and proceeded to calmly dab it all over his beautiful husband’s face, to make him look his best as the coach slowed down. They all waited until LeFou was calm before they knocked on the door. 

Wanting everything to be perfect tonight, for both his lovers, Gaston had hired a chauffeur. The man opened the door when they asked him, and Constance was about to wait, ready to almost hide behind her husbands not to attract too much attention, before LeFou waved at the door. 

_“Les dames d’abord!”_

Constance looked down with a blush. Of course. She still had to get used to it, in the privacy of their home they didn’t have many occasions to be this gallant. She shyly stepped out of the vehicle, helped by their careful chauffeur. She looked around. There was quite a big company gathered for the prince’s birthday. 

The evening was still young, pink and orange sunlight barely brushing the top of the farthest trees, and the audience had decided to stay in the gardens for a while. The moment her feet touched the ground, she felt all eyes on her as conversations faded. Now there was no turning back, she had to play her role even though in this very moment it felt more difficult than hunting a wild boar during mating season. Constance took a deep breath, raised her chin, straightened her posture and took a step towards the castle. 

She immediately noticed the triplets had already arrived with Maman, and now that they were not the newest guests anymore, the attention was drawn from them towards Constance. Despite sharing wonderful relationships now that most of the jealousy between them was gone, Constance did not want them to feel bad or threatened by her presence. She did not desire more attention than them, she already had everything she could wish for in Villeneuve. 

With a huge grin, Constance trotted to her sisters and opened her arms to cheer them, bringing back all the attention to them. Paulette and Claudette replied with excited squeals.

“Mes chéries, you are so beautiful! Look at you!”

“No, you look amazing, soeurette!” Laurette smiled. “What a beautiful dress!” 

“No, you are perfect!” Constance insisted, brushing Claudette’s cheek. “You have everything to make a great catch tonight, the gentlemen won’t be able to ignore your charms!” 

“Oh I hope so!” Paulette giggled. 

Constance turned towards her mother and gently held her hand. Eléonore leaned in to kiss her forehead. A richly dressed man stepped closer and asked in a concerned tone, the tone of someone who wouldn’t mind his own business.

“But… Madame, I could have sworn your girls told me, when we met a few years ago, that they had a younger _brother_?” 

Constance froze but Maman ran a hand behind her back and replied, “Well now they do have a younger sister, Vicomte.” 

She then turned around and stopped the discussion to talk with her daughters. Constance and her sisters kept congratulating each other for a while until the conversations faded and they looked around to understand the cause of this solemn silence. 

Constance couldn’t contain a gasp when she saw Adam and Belle walking out the large door of their sumptuous home. Beautiful and noble in their posture, their faces were friendly, their warm smiles prevented them from looking too posh. Constance straightened her back and reverently joined her hands in front of her stomach. 

They greeted their guests, first with a general hello, then proceeded to stop and salute each and every one of them with a surprising modesty. Despite their magnificent clothes, they remained a humble couple aware of their privileges. 

Constance tried to stay calm but felt her courage crumble as Adam stopped in front of her and tilted his head like a curious puppy. “I don’t think we’ve ever met?” 

His tone was gentle, far from mocking or despising, but his question left Constance speechless. She stuttered, reached for the outstretched hand, almost gasped when Adam bowed and brushed the tip of his nose against her fingers like a proper gentleman. Impressed, she looked for Gaston and LeFou in the crowd who were staring at her with those huge stupid smiles they had when she did something they found adorable.

“This is Constance,” Belle patiently explained to her husband. “The triplets’ sister, I told you about her.” 

Adam’s eyes widened for a split second and he broke into a huge grin. “Oh! Constance, yes! Forgive me, I should have recognized you...” 

With this smile, Constance had to admit he looked charming. Not as devilishly handsome as Gaston nor as stunning as LeFou, but a pretty decent looking prince. Belle’s tastes were not so bad after all. She felt somehow flattered that he did not recognize her, for she wanted to look as different as possible as that person she still was at that last ball.

“You are _most welcome_ at the Castle, my dear,” he added in a tone full of hidden meanings. “Please let us know straight away if anyone forgets that statement tonight.” 

“I will,” she sighed, finding comfort in their protective oath. 

Belle took her hands and stayed with her for a short moment after Adam had moved to other guests. “Constance, I’m delighted to see you there. I need to know... are you happy?” 

Constance couldn’t help feeling annoyed that Belle, as she was wording her concerns, gave Gaston a quick look, but she knew the princess had reasons to be resentful and she nodded, “Happier than ever, milady.” 

“Good!” 

Belle squeezed her fingers before she walked to the sisters whose faces had turned bright red after talking to Adam. Constance was slightly nervous as the Prince got closer and closer to her husbands, and the fact that everyone tried to talk to her didn’t help. She distractedly saluted Cogsworth and Mrs Potts, then stepped away to get a better look at the scene. 

For once, Gaston didn’t try to appear bigger than he really was, and he shook the prince’s hand with a grave look and a surprising humility. Adam gave him a warm smile. 

“Glad to see you here, my friend,” he simply said, sounding sincere. “Please, be our guest..”

“The honor is mine, my prince,” Gaston replied, not used to showing respect to a man with more prestige than him. 

He started breathing normally again when Adam moved on, and gave Belle a nod as she walked by.

“Gaston…” she simply said, looking unsure of how she wanted to act. 

Constance frowned as she saw Gaston’s shoulders relax and his lovely, annoying smirk spread on his face. Why did he have to pull out his most seductive hunter game for her? 

“I hear you have found a good husband,” Gaston started as Belle raised a defiant eyebrow. He placed his hand around LeFou’s waist and smiled, proud of himself, “Well, mine’s even better.” 

Belle raised her hand to her mouth as she bursted out laughing, sincerely relieved. She crossed her arms, eyed LeFou with a gentle smile. “Ah, maybe you’re right… but you’re Gaston! You need the best after all. I’ll have to settle for Adam.” 

As soon as she was gone, Gaston let out a soft sigh and took a deep breath to regain composure before he turned to other guests. Constance smiled. Maestro started playing and the party officially started. Everywhere she looked, Constance only saw gentle looks of acceptance. She felt a hand pull her arm: Paulette who had someone very important to introduce her to, and Constance let herself be dragged into the whirl of the festivities.

.

The party was as pleasant as could be. The guests were mostly nice people, the conversations sometimes lighthearted, sometimes deeper and more interesting. 

Constance was talking with Lumière and Plumette when she noticed Gaston laughing with three men she didn’t know. Never before had she seen them: they had a more ruffian appearance than most noble lads gathered here. As she stepped closer, sipping a glass of white wine, she was stopped by Père Robert who couldn't help asking if she enjoyed the celebration. Constance managed to give polite but vague answers, her eyes still on the group of men. They were all looking in the same direction and making comments. It took a few seconds for Constance to understand they were gazing at women around, and giving their unwanted opinions. 

She frowned, paused by the clavecin to observe them as she listened to the music. Gaston seemed familiar with them, she realized why when one of them clapped his hand on her lover’s shoulder calling him _“Capitaine”_. So they were his men in the army.  
She did not manage to be annoyed with them because Gaston looked so happy and amused. He seemed relaxed, careless, playing the rude guy for a moment. As long as his bravado remained words only, Constance didn’t mind, she knew the man behind the character, he could pretend to be a seducer this evening as long as he still was the same _amoureux_ in private. 

One of the guys suddenly looked at her, making a comment, and all the group turned around to check her out. Constance pretended she hadn’t seen them, fixing a ribbon on her corset, but she could hear them from afar. She feared unpleasant remarks at first, hoped Gaston would defend her honor if needed, but the words that came to her ears didn’t meet expectations. 

“ _Joli petit lot_ ,” one of them said, whistling. 

Another slightly raised his glass, “I wouldn't let her sleep in the barn... if you see what I mean!” 

Constance felt herself blush as the last unknown guy added, “If I had met a girl like that when I came back from war I’d have a dozen children by now.” 

As strange and inappropriate as their words could sound, Constance found herself flattered that they did not even consider she could have been once seen as a boy. She wanted them to stop talking about her this way, they were rude and had to learn some manners, and yet she could use some more compliments. 

“Do you know her?” the first guy asked. “Is she married?”

“Like you could have a chance with such a _joli brin d’fille_!” his friend laughed, clapping his own thigh. 

Crossing his look, Constance understood Gaston was embarrassed by his friends’ behavior and didn't really know how to act. Probably jealous and protective he wanted to defend her, but after the long years and months of feeling so bad, it was a nice break for him to be back with his army friends. Constance walked towards them with a smirk, swaying her hips under the wide dress. 

The men’s smiles faded as she came closer then took Gaston’s arm, as proud and cocky as him. “ _Mon chéri_ , will you introduce me to your friends?” 

Gaston laughed at their shocked faces, gave Constance a thankful look for getting him out of this awkward situation. 

“W--wait she’s your girl, Cap’n? Why didn’t you say it, we wouldn't have… I mean…” the first guy stammered. 

“As you say, Martin, she’s my girl,” Gaston said, an arm around her waist, with a slight emphasis on ‘my’. “Good cook, great housewife, wonderful hunter and sparring partner…” 

Constance leaned into his touch, moved by his compliments. 

“Sparring partner, you mean… in the bedroom, right?” Martin asked again, scratching his head.

Gaston shrugged, “Ah yes, that too…” leaving them even more confused and Constance feeling delighted.

.

After a delicious dinner like Constance had only ever eaten at the castle (oh, that gray stuff!), during which she only felt welcomed and surrounded by pleasant people, the real ball started and everyone gathered around Maestro and Mme de Garderobe to listen to their beautiful duet and dance. 

Feeling rather warm in this crowded room, Constance decided to get some fresh air on the closest balcony, take some time to process her big evening. The night was still young, the Prince and his wife were not known for throwing short parties, so she knew she would still have time to have fun and socialize. The evening air was cool enough, stars showing up one by one on the dark sky. Constance felt more than she heard soft steps behind her. She turned around, encouraged by a light breeze movement.

“ _Bonsoir_ ,” Agatha greeted with a warm smile.

“ _Oh, bonsoir madame_!” Constance nodded politely. It had been more than a year and still, she wasn't used to seeing the Enchantress as anything but a beggar surrounded by cats. 

“How are you, _belle enfant_? Do you enjoy the celebration?” 

Constance nodded, mesmerized by the woman’s ethereal posture, her eyes that reflected light in a magical way. Agatha walked to her, almost floating in the air. She had a smile that made you trust her. 

“Constance, _chère amie_ , there is a topic I want to tell you about… do you have time for a little conversation?” the lady asked in her soft soothing tone. 

Constance stepped closer with a smile. “Of course, milady, what is it?” 

“I have seen you Constance, for the last years… I saw you grow up and change, become a beautiful young lady. You’ve become more confident, prettier than ever…” 

“Thank you,” Constance whispered, blushing. 

Agatha tilted her head with a gentle smile. She brushed her fingers on Constance’s cheek to remove a hair strand. “Don’t you think it’s time for you to become a real woman?” 

Constance’s first instinct was to slightly purse her lips, she was not sure she understood the meaning of the enchantress’ words as she was so used to both her husbands telling her she was indeed a real woman. After a few seconds she caught up and her eyebrows shot up. 

“You mean…” she whispered tentatively, not daring to say the words. A woman like she had dreamed to be ever since she toddled around the garden. A girl whose body and mind wouldn't be questioned, the kind of lady every man desired, a role model for young wenches. 

“A woman like me, like Belle or Plumette,” Agatha explained with her warm smile. “Like your sisters… a real girl.” 

A voice in the back of Constance’s head told her she really didn’t like to be called a fake girl but the Enchantress’ tone was filled with promises of a kind Constance would never have hoped. What if? What if she could be a lady from head to toes? 

“Could you do that?” Constance asked in awe as she already guessed the answer. The powers of the magic woman were out of this world, if she could turn an entire group of people into furniture she could easily make her the girl she always dreamed of being. 

“I can, _belle enfant_ ,” Agatha promised, taking her hands. She stroked her thumb over her knuckles, never breaking eye contact. Her soft voice was soothing, reassuring. “I can make you the woman you deserve to be. You have worked hard enough for that.” 

She brushed her fingers on Constance’s cheek then over the scarf around her neck. “You wouldn't have to shave anymore, nor to hide your throat from view. You’d be as normal as one can be, you could even… have children.” 

Constance let out a soft gasp when Agatha placed her hands on her stomach in a silent promise. Heart pounding in her chest, she processed the multiple implications of such a sweet offer. A family in the future, giving Gaston the boys he always wanted? This was such an unreachable dream she would have never dared to even fantasize about it, but now that Agatha was offering it, Constance could feel it at the tip of her fingers, so close. Just a spell away. 

The sounds from the party had faded around them, Constance could only hear and see the benevolent woman and her wonderful promises. She swallowed heavily, nodded with tears in her voice.

“Yes… Yes, I want this! This is all I ever wished for…” 

“ _Oh ma douce amie_ ,” Agatha laughed and gently cradled her face in her hands. “You look so enthusiastic! You are so precious.” 

Constance was a hunter, her instinct told her something was off but her heart refused to listen, too mesmerized by the sweet dreams at hand. Agatha always seemed to carefully pick her words. 

“Constance, there is just one condition I must set. And you shall not discuss it…” she explained in her sweet as honey voice.

Constance barely frowned. She would have accepted anything to reach her dreams. She would have sacrificed years of her life, her voice, her health, anything! Agatha’s tone got lower. 

“Womanhood brings the highest responsibilities my dear, with the ability to bear children you could give a man the most beautiful present. You could bless him with heirs. Build a family, perpetuate his blood, his heritage. This is the greatest power of women and it shouldn’t be used incorrectly.” 

“Ah… of course,” Constance nodded, licking her lips, not sure to follow her line of thoughts. 

“I can give you this power,” Agatha added like a secret, “But I can’t let you perpetuate two lineages… this would not be right. You must make a choice first: whose man is worthier of sharing your life, which one deserves your heirs.” 

Constance frowned, tried to take a step back but Agatha didn’t let her escape her grip. Her eyes reflected a thousand colors in the dark. Her voice was calm, hypnotizing. Even though she felt deep down that she disagreed, Constance couldn't find a proper argument to oppose. 

“But… I love them both,” she protested weakly, as if her own words were pronounced by someone else. “I can’t…” 

“ _Ma chérie_ ,” the enchantress added as if it were an evidence. “Babies have always come from a mother and a father. Nothing more, nothing less. _Un papa, une maman_ , you shall not lie to a child.” 

Constance tried to look away, repeating softly, “... not lie to a child.” 

She was first in line to know how lies and secrets could hurt a whole family. This just seemed fair. As hurtful as it sounded. With a deep sigh, she looked her miracle helper.  
“Yet how… how could I possibly let one of them go?” 

Choosing a side? Picking a favorite? This seemed an impossible task! How could she decide to make one of them happy while the other would end up miserable? 

A reassuring smile spread on Agatha’s face, “Do not worry, dear… any pain you and your chosen one might feel when you make that important choice, it shall fade as soon as you become a normal family and create a life together. Nothing could ever replace that… trust me.” 

Constance did not have a choice not to trust her, it was as if her voice, her tone called for trust. Every statement she made was like an unquestionable evidence. When they talked together Constance felt like walking on clouds, the real world had no influence on her anymore.

“I… how can I let you know I’ve made up my mind?” she asked absentmindedly.

“Oh, just come find me there at midnight with your answer!” Agatha simply shrugged. “Go, enjoy your evening, think about your two options then tell me which one you picked. I’ll take care of the rest.” 

Constance watched the enchantress leave like the end of a strange dream. She blinked, carefully rubbed her own cheeks, shook her head to get out of this bizarre fog. She couldn't really tell if she agreed or not, she wasn't even sure she hadn't imagined the conversation. 

She stepped back into the ballroom, feeling heavy in her dress. Despite all their efforts it didn't fit as perfectly as it would if she were different. Agatha had made it clear, she could be a woman. Period. No more insults in the streets, no more laughs, no more harassment. But the dream had a cost, and even though the enchantress had been convincing, voicing what appeared to be the best situation, Constance knew the choice would be hard to make.

Lost in her thoughts she didn’t see the silhouette running by her and stumbled with a gasp when it hit her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my fellow Frenchies who recognized some patterns in Agatha's speech, let's all proudly dedicate our 'sins' to la Manif Pour Tous. Screw them.


	9. Déchirée, je suis une femme partagée - (part. 2)

... But the dream had a cost, and even though the enchantress had been convincing, voicing what appeared to be the best situation, Constance knew the choice would be hard to make.

Lost in her thoughts she didn’t see the silhouette running by her and stumbled with a gasp when it hit her. 

“Oh, sorry ma chérie!” Gaston laughed, breathless from running. He looked behind his back and gasped, “Oh no, no, no… they’re going to catch me!” 

Constance looked as he ran away, still laughing, while Chip and Froufrou chased him in a wild and merciless manhunt. Her heart ached at the sight. Gaston pretended to stumble against a footstool and dramatically fell on the ground, while Chip used this opportunity to jump on him and tickle him. 

It looked natural to him, his face lit up like in no other occasion as he played with the little boy, playful as a brother but protective as a father. He surrendered, hands up in the air, promised not to try anything bad, yet when Chip let go of him, Gaston gave him the most mischievous smirk and reverted the chase, making the boy squeal and laugh to tears.

Constance bit her lower lip, intense feelings heaving her heart. Gaston would be such a good father, were he given the opportunity. He would love it, cherish all these moments, and raise brave honorable children. These were his dreams and future she held in her hand tonight. 

The moment she thought for a split second that choosing Gaston was the most natural and logical step to make, she felt a soft hand brush her temple and turned to look on her left.

“Here,” LeFou smiled as he tucked a flower in her hair, “For the prettiest!” 

Constance swiftly looked in the closest mirror to see the flower complimented her carnation and hair perfectly. LeFou took her hand, tilted his head towards the dance floor. 

“May I have this dance, beauty of mine?” 

Constance followed him with a grin, unable to refuse him anything. She loved dancing with him, he made her feel precious, important, when he held her in his arms like a delicate flower. The last time they had danced at the castle, she had led for her very confused partner, but today with the assurance that she loved him for who he was, LeFou was much more confident and Constance loved it. She followed his steps, his flowing moves, in love with the way he made her head spin and her heart dance. 

And as she lost herself in his beautiful brown eyes, admired his perfectly sculpted nose and curled lips, Constance remembered how she had loved him for so long… LeFou had been the first she had ever looked at like he was the sun himself. He was in her thoughts when she talked about weddings and lifetime commitments with her sisters. She used to dream of his touch, she heard his voice in her sleep. Never had her young heart beaten harder than when he sang at the tavern, even though it was not for her yet. 

Now he did sing for her though, to help her go to sleep or to distract her when they were doing chores together. Constance held onto his chubby hand harder. The mere thought of letting go the man who had opened her heart to romantic feelings brought tears to her eyes. How could she imagine life without him by her side? This wasn't life but an ordeal. 

LeFou frowned, silently asking her why the strange looks but she shook her head. He held her carefully, made her dress twirl when they moved, and Constance suddenly realized that choosing him was another possibility. She barely contained a gasp, her heart swelling at the thought. 

LeFou would be a wonderful family man: singing lullabies to sleepless babies, running after toddlers, teaching chivalry to young sons, helping daughters with their clothes and hair. He smiled at her, making her melt between his arms. He was pure but brave, honest but assertive, gentle and strong. Constance leaned in to kiss the tip of his nose. Yes, growing old by his side would be heaven, and his lineage a precious heritage. 

Constance was losing track of reality as she turned and whirled around the room, guided by soft arms and hands. She was present but lost in her thoughts. Here and there at the same time, dreaming of lives that were and lives that could be. She didn’t see her dear husband give calculating looks behind her back and before she even had time to think about anything, she was gently pushed in front of Gaston who caught up as swiftly as possible where LeFou had left her. 

“There comes the love of my life,” Gaston purred against her ear, causing tears to fill her eyes. 

Ashamed of her previous thoughts, she didn’t dare looking up to him, hands shaking in his. Closing her eyes only emphasized his warmth, his smell, all those sensations that reminded her the comfort he brought her for the last months. He slightly turned away from her to follow the classic moves of this dance but she anxiously didn’t let go of his hand. No, she could not abandon him. He had been the first to call her his wife and treat her a such. 

She eventually managed to look at his face through blurry eyes. His beauty was darkened by years of visible and invisible scars. He had been through so much pain, he had been to Hell so often he called le Diable by his first name. And she would throw him away to live her dreams with LeFou? He deserved understanding, compassion, love… everything he gave her back and more.

Constance was spinning in his arms, filled with remorseful feelings, when she noticed LeFou waiting for his turn with a sweet smile. When they danced close to him, he held out his hand and Constance happily left Gaston to his care. 

Tormented by her contradictory feelings, she stepped away from the dance floor to catch her breath and regain composure. She started to hate Agatha for opening up this door, giving her the opportunity she never asked for. Yes, she had dreamed of it, but at what cost? 

She looked up at her two husbands. They were gracious when they danced together, after so many years they knew each other’s bodies by heart, they matched each other tempo perfectly and when the music turned into a waltz they caught up like the great dancers they were. 

They looked in each other’s eyes, smiling like two young grooms, exchanged sweet words, filled with gratitude for being allowed to do so at the court. They were both beautiful in their own way, with all their imperfections. Constance felt remorse heavy her heart as she saw them so unapologetically happy together. 

How could she have for even a second thought about getting between them? They knew each other before she was even born! They grew up together, they did not discover love together, they created it. Two boys way too young to go to war, eventually finding peace and solace in each other’s arms. And she would tear them apart for heirs? This was selfish and insane now that she thought about it. 

The moment she wondered what Gaston would say if he had to make a choice, she saw him lean closer to LeFou and read on his lips, “You’re perfect mon amour. I would never trade you for anything or anyone.” 

Constance had to pretend she was sneezing to discreetly hide her tears. What a selfish monster she was! How could she even consider it for a single second? How? She dabbed a handkerchief on her cheeks, took the glass of Champagne Lumière handed her, then looked at her gorgeous husbands. They were perfect the way they are. 

A last option remained and she knew this would be her final choice: to refuse the deal for them. Let their pure love untouched. Intact. They had been through so much, their relationship was still fragile and needed support, not even more obstacles. She smiled, sincerely happy with her decision. 

Yet as she took a step back towards the wide doors, and despite her determination, she couldn't avoid the bittersweet feeling of being left with herself, her old body, her boy’s reputation and history. All of her life she would have to see her muscles get bigger if she had too much physical activity. Every morning she would have to shave and try harder to look feminine. Everything would always be more difficult for her than for other ladies and she was left with an impression of deep injustice. She would never be as real a woman as others. That was unfair. 

She looked at LeFou and Gaston, their luminous smiles, their happiness being together. They were for nothing in this unfairness, they didn’t have to pay for it. They shouldn’t suffer for her own dreams, and even though she could never give them children, she was determined to compensate this flaw by taking care of them the best she could. 

Constance walked backwards to the edge of the crowded room. She was about to leave, needing a moment for herself, when she saw a group of young girls, not older than ten, who looked at her giggling. Constance took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a second. She was an adult, she could hunt boars and deers and yet young girls laughing remained one of her biggest fears. She could have done anything to avoid them in this very moment but they all trotted to her, laughing and calling her.

“ _Madame Constance, Madame Constance!_ ” 

Constance politely bowed to salute them, a lump in her throat. “ _Mesdemoiselles…_ ” 

“ _Madame Constance!_ ” the taller girl exclaimed, pointing at her own throat. “Look! We’re wearing foulards just like you!” 

Constance noticed they all had tied short scarves around their necks like she usually did to hide her Adam’s apple. A touched smile spread on her face as the girls all insisted to show her their own variation of the style, one with a bow, the other with a double knot, even though they had nothing to dissimulate.

“This is a _magnifique_ good idea!” another girl added. “You have such talent to shape fashion, madame, you are my _préférée_!” 

A third girl asked in a conspiring tone, barely trying to lower her excited voice, “Madame Constance, they say you have two husbands? You are so lucky!!! How did you manage that?”

“Pffft she is so beautiful and smart, that’s why!” the taller girl replied like a know-it-all big sister. “She can hunt, she can fight, she can read… one prince charming is not enough for a lady like that!” 

“You can read like the princess too?” the second girl squealed. “When I grow up I want to be just like you!” 

“Me too, me too!” the girls repeated, hopping in their dresses, the curls that framed their faces bouncing up and down. Constance placed her hands on her blushing cheeks, touched by their pure enthusiasm.

“Thank you so much, _les filles_ ,” she sighed.

“Thank you for what?” the girls replied before they ran away to more pressing matters, oblivious to the nice feelings they had awoken in the older woman. 

Constance watched them leave, moved by their innocence and lack of judgement. After all, as goes the saying, the truth always comes out of children’s mouths right? What she would have given to be allowed to play like that when she was younger! Without a look to the dance floor, she made her way out of the room, in need of some quietness. 

.

The castle was so big and richly decorated Constance knew she could spend hours visiting every room, every corridor. The Prince had good taste, it was known, and his court even more. There were delicate statues and paintings, flowers, mostly roses, baroque ornaments and rococo angels everywhere. Gold and stuc mixed with marble and silver. Constance walked with her head tilted back, lost in the splendid stories told on the walls and ceilings. Adam and Belle had had their portrait painted by the amazing Monsieur Blaise and far from solemn or official, the picture showed their deep love and affection. 

Minutes passed as she walked through the large corridors, appreciating the silence and admiring the luxurious interiors. She eventually looked by a window and noticed she could see the ballroom from afar, in another aisle of the castle. She had been way farther than expected, and lost in her contemplation, she had lost track of her path! What a hunter she made, getting lost in a castle when she could track beasts in the forest for days and never get confused! 

Constance quickly trotted back in the corridors she had been through. She did not want the Prince to think she was being nosy! Unsure of the right direction, she pushed a door and realized her mistake when she found a room she had never seen before, full of bookshelves. 

Belle and Plumette were sitting on a couch, glasses of wine in their hands, their cheeks pink from laughing. They startled when the door opened and even let out surprised squeaks. 

“Oh mon Dieu!” Plumette exclaimed before laughing at her own silly reaction. 

“I-- I am so sorry,” Constance apologized, embarrassed beyond words. “I did not mean to interrupt, I… I got lost, trying to find my way back to the...”

“Oh it’s alright,” Belle cut her with a reassuring grin. “We just happened to have a girl-only conversation and…” 

“Oh…” Constance whispered then looked down, not feeling welcome. A deep shame burned through her heart at the princess’ words and she wondered how she could retreat without being incredibly rude. 

“... we were afraid one of our dearest husbands would hear what we were saying!” Belle added, waving in her direction. “Why don’t you join us? With two husbands you must have your share of bedroom stories to tell!” 

Impressed, Constance took a deep breath and looked around, unsure about the proper reaction to have. She took a tentative step inside.

“Come here before anyone sees you!” Plumette added in a conspiring tone. “We were getting to the best part!” 

Constance closed the door and shyly walked towards the couch where both ladies scooted back to leave some room for her. She sat while Plumette handed her a plate covered in candies and tiny biscuits and Belle poured her a glass of _rosé_ wine.

“Are you… trying to bribe me into sharing intimate stories?” Constance blushed. She knew her sisters shared indecent memories sometimes but she had no idea this was also something proper ladies did with their friends. 

“Maybe,” Belle laughed. “But in return you’ll get ours and that’s a fair trade, don’t you think?” 

Constance nodded, still impressed. She was certain her cheeks were darker than her pink dress now. She smoothed some wrinkles on her skirt. “I… I wouldn’t really know… I don’t have much experience, to be honest…” 

“Much experience talking about such topics, or in a more general way?” Plumette asked, licking sugar off her fingers. 

“A little bit of both?” Constance confessed. She was now afraid her inexperience would make her less interesting to the other ladies’ eyes. “We took our time and they remained gentlemen for as long as I needed them to… even though when we started, it became almost impossible to stay away from each other.”

“Oh, tell me about it!” Belle sighed, rolling her eyes. “When Adam finally turned back into a human, I thought we would never leave our bedroom anymore!” 

Plumette leaned in with a cheeky grin. “Hmm I remember that… but did really nothing happen before that?” 

“I haven’t had enough wine to tell you yet!” Belle replied with a guilty look. 

Constance liked the way they talked to each other, and even more the way they included her. They were carefree, just friends laughing together, and nothing made her happier than being seen as one of the girls, not some “other”. Belle offered more wine as they spoke. 

“So, Constance, when was the last time you biblically knew your husbands?” Plumette asked, eyes shining with excitement. 

Constance hid her blush behind her glass. “I, uh… in the carriage, when we were coming to the castle?” 

“ _Oh là là_!” both friends exclaimed loud enough to be heard on the other side of the forest.

“In the carriage? And then you pretend to lack experience!” Belle joked with a tender look. “This sounds interesting. I have never had such an opportunity.” 

Plumette flapped her hand excitedly. “No, but you were going to tell me about books before Constance entered! I want to know!” 

“True,” Belle started, looking down with a soft blush. She looked both slightly embarrassed and confident. “For some reason when I’m reading it doesn’t leave Adam indifferent. Whenever I have a book in my hands he gets all… interested. Last week, I was reading this wonderful story, it had a dragon and a knight, and I had only twenty pages left, I wanted to know the end!”

Constance nodded, knowing this feeling all too well. LeFou loved to see and hear her read too, and he brushed her hair or massaged her shoulders as she did. 

“So I said ‘No, Adam, I want to finish my book first, as tempting as you look’ and I thought that would be it,” Belle explained, taking another sip to gather her courage. “He knelt in front of me and started lifting my dress up, and as I didn’t push him away he asked if it was a no. I told him to do whatever he wanted as long as I could finish my book in peace, and he… took it quite literally.”

“No!” Plumette exclaimed with wide eyes. “While you were reading?” 

“Well, he took care of me and I got to know the end of my story, that was quite a nice moment,” Belle chuckled. “And he had to wait until I was done reading to get his turn. A nice arrangement, don’t you think?” 

Both Plumette and Constance nodded in unison, agreeing that it was a cheeky but fine way to treat a husband. Constance could even imagine do that with her lovers, they were always the ones with the good ideas, she wanted to sometimes suggest unexpected games too. 

“What about you, Plumette?” Belle asked, wiggling her eyebrows. “Did you and your sweetheart try anything new lately?” 

“Well…” the young maid pretended to think hard about it, but she looked like she already knew what to say. “You know, when we were still cursed, and Lumière chéri was still a candélabre, we had to do with the very little possibilities left. We only hugged and kissed, and he often burned me with his candles by accident. It was awkward and annoying, mostly because of my feathers.” 

Constance took a candy, carefully listening. Where Plumette was going, she wasn’t sure.

“Fortunately, when we were ourselves again, this didn’t happen anymore. Then after a few months I realised that… I kind of missed it?” 

Plumette blushed, paused, leaving room for her friends’ imagination to get naughty as she took a swig of wine. 

“Are you suggesting…?” Constance dared asking. 

“Pauvre Lumière didn’t even want to hear about it, I had to convince him,” she stated matter of factly. “But once he was decided to follow my lead… let me tell you hot wax makes up the perfect amount of soft pain to be pleasant, and it reminds me of all those hurried stolen kisses while the Master looked away. It feels good, anchors me to reality.” 

“Soft pain…” Constance repeated, looking at the colors of her drink. 

When she looked up from it, she saw the two curious gazes on her, quietly interrogating her. She rolled her eyes.

“LeFou loves being bitten. A lot. Truth be told he is also very chewable which doesn’t make it any less pleasant.” 

Constance dared looking up, snorted and burst out giggling with her two hosts. She could not believe she was telling tales of her sensual life to other ladies, in such explicit terms. She reserved these words for her husbands, not even her sisters knew about all of this. Yet, as scandalous as it may have seemed, it felt just right to exchange wives stories with two open-minded ladies.

Belle leaned back against the armrest of the wide sofa and gave her a soft yet serious look. “Constance, you… you really don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but I was wondering what kind of man is Gaston in private?” 

A flash of suspicion went through Constance’s mind but as she stared back at the princess she could only read honesty in her eyes.

“I do not want to stir trouble,” Belle added cautiously. “You really don't have to talk about that with me if you do not wish to.” 

Constance took a few deep breaths, brushing her fingertips on the edge of the glass. She wondered how and where to start. Her dear husband made her heart twirl and dance and bounce. Words were not enough to describe this magical relationship, she would have needed LeFou’s talent to make rhymes about their passion. 

“Sometimes, he is very... Gaston,” she started, giving Belle a quick glance to be met with a knowing nod. “And I like this part of him. We tease each other, he doesn’t mind a girl who talks back, hell, he loves it! I can be myself with him. I can speak loud, I can hunt, I can get angry and he doesn’t try to put me back to my place. We drink together at the tavern, we race, we spar… while I also love the charming way LeFou treats me, I find myself in Gaston somehow, and he respects me as an equal for that.” 

Constance looked at Plumette who, fascinated by her speech, had placed her chin in the palms of her hands like a child begging for more tales. 

“Also, I can understand that some women do not want to be treated like trophies… I really do. But when all the looks I get during the day are despising or pitiful, when I’m called a boy, a sodomite or a child molester in the streets, it is a real comfort to come home to a man who voices his appreciation.”

She put down her glass, stroked her hands together. 

“I don’t have many occasions to be complimented on my appearance or my body. After the days I have, it’s a pleasure to hear him talk about me in a sinful way. He makes me feel wanted, desired like any other lady… he doesn’t see some ugly village girl in me. So yes, when he is all confident and manly he is precisely what I need.” 

Constance looked at the princess who had tilted her head with an understanding look. 

“I had never thought about that, about the way you must feel,” Belle admitted. “You two sound like a good match.”

“And yet,” Constance added, “he can also be very different from what one would expect. He has changed, he is full of surprises. He is sometimes awkward and unsure of his ways but he is a gentleman somehow. I guess last year changed us all.” 

All three young women nodded with soft sighs, lost in the memories of the last months. Everything had changed, for the best. Constance thought about Agatha for a second. The deal she would refuse. She would never be a real girl and yet, sitting with friends, talking like any other lady, she felt like she had nothing to prove. 

As Plumette was about to talk, they heard loud voices, panicked shouts in the corridor. Constance immediately recognized Gaston’s shaky baritone and swiftly got up, followed by her hosts. The heavy doors flew open as they approached to reveal both their husbands in various states of anxiety. 

“You’re here!” Lumière exclaimed, only looking at Plumette, a torch in each hand. “The three of you had disappeared and we panicked…”

“We got carried away,” Adam stated sheepishly. “We worry too much, I think.”

Gaston silently walked to Constance and pulled her into a warm embrace, the sound of his shaky breath echoing under the high ceiling. She let herself be held like a porcelain doll, strong arms finding comfort in her presence. 

“I was so afraid…” Gaston grunted, still in shock from all the thoughts his racing mind had imagined. 

“I was in the castle,” Constance whispered. “Nothing could have happened to me, my love.” 

Gaston gently cradled her head in his hands, a worried look on his face. “I know you can defend yourself, _mon aimée_ , but I have also seen the hatred your face daily and…” 

Constance wrapped her arms around his chest, feeling it rise and fall heavily, and buried her face in the crook of his neck. “Thank you for worrying for me, _mon amour_. You take such good care of me.” 

She held him tightly until she felt his heartbeat slow down, his breathing get steadier. When she looked up, both other couples were politely waiting for them. 

“Shall we go back?” she suggested. 

Adam frowned, “Wait! We should go tell LeFou we found you, he must be running everywhere on the other side of the castle.” 

Gaston nodded, finally sheathing back his rapier, “True. I’ll go after him.”

He walked out of the room, holding Constance’s hand, then turned back towards her with a teasing smirk. “I… hm… I would tell you not to disappear again in the meantime but I know if I ask you to do something, you’ll do the exact opposite.”

Constance looked down with a chuckle, unable not to recognize herself in this statement.

“Go,” she giggled. “And don’t get lost in there, I don’t want to have to come save you later!” 

Gaston planted a quick chaste kiss on her lips then left in the large corridor to find their husband. What a match they all were. All brave and anxious.


	10. Déchirée, je suis une femme partagée - (part. 3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter of this arc, thank you so much for your nice feedback here and there, each and every one of them warms my heart. I wish you all a year full of happiness and acceptance. ;)

Constance followed her hosts almost all the way to the ballroom, but stopped just before entering, as Madame de Garderobe walked their way. They saluted each other, the singer letting Constance know how relieved she was to know her safe. Realizing her throat was dry after all those sweets, and too much wine, Constance asked for a glass of water and Madame kindly offered to take her to the kitchen.

Constance followed her in silence for a while. The taller lady walked with a noble posture, and as they crossed the luxurious rooms, Constance could not help having mixed feelings. A year ago or so, it was her who had first given her blessing to Stanley, urging him to be free with that beautiful ball gown. Constance had been the most grateful and they had remained in excellent terms ever since. Yet, she also remembered, like a ghost sting, the painful slap on the back of her hand…

It was many years ago, she was still a child back then. Constance remembered how excited she had been to be invited to the castle, a memory that had only resurfaced after the curse was broken.   
Maman had dressed them up all for the occasion, but as much as young Stanley loved his salmon breeches that day, he dreamed of wearing his sisters’ dresses. Back then, he couldn't even begin to imagine living a life as a woman, he simply thought something was broken in him. He just had to try harder to be normal, and play gentleman with other little boys, while Maman told everyone her son would soon be a good catch for any demoiselle. 

Sneaking up in one of the castle’s bedrooms, Stanley had found a wonderful treasure: the wardrobe of Adam’s mother. He had spent hours playing with ribbons and laces, observing the colors, trying on the too big shoes. Lost in a voluptuous heaven of satin and velvet, Stanley had spent the best afternoon of his young life. 

It was Mrs de Garderobe who had found him by accident, and Constance remembered her reaction had been anything but benevolent. She had scolded him, slapped the back of his hand and accused him of being things he did not understand yet. Constance still heard the echo of terrible words in the back of her head. How could one be so rude to a child? 

She shyly looked at the beautiful singer next to her who gave her a warm smile. Constance looked down, suddenly confused and lost. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Madame said softly. “I am sincerely sorry for what I did to you when you were a child. I was ignorant and full of hatred for things I did not understand. I could feel why you would be angry at me now...” 

Constance took a deep breath, strangely relieved. It was somehow reassuring to hear Madame admit her mistakes, and not try to excuse them. Yet, it hardly made sense to her. Why was it that same person who had been so harsh to her younger self that eventually set her free? 

“What is it, _douce enfant_?” the warm voice repeated.

Daring to look at her, Constance shook her head. “Why did you give me that pretty dress… when we attacked the castle? You made a fool of Tom and Dick to defend yourself, but you gave me precisely all that I ever wanted, and… you told me to… I mean, I do not understand, why this sudden change?” 

Madame de Garderobe stopped and turned towards her, taking her hands. She seemed to think about her answer for a second. 

“Oh my dear, this change was anything but sudden. For ten years I was forced to be someone I wasn’t, I was trapped in a role that I did not want to play… when I saw you that day, trying to be a brute when all you desired was to be a lady, I realized if ten years felt like hell for me, your curse was even worse.” 

Constance looked up as warm hands brushed her cheeks. “I was not sure I would ever be myself again, so I wanted you to have this opportunity. You seized it beautifully, Constance.” 

With a soft smile, Constance took a small bow, causing her mentor to let out a happy laugh. “I do not have the words to thank you for what you did…”

“You don’t have to, _ma chérie_ , this was the least I could do. Besides, with or without me you would have wiggled out of your chrysalid soon enough, you were made to shine. We adults just did not see that some girls are not born looking like others… we are the ones who should thank you for that lesson.” 

Constance let Madame hold her arm as she took her to the kitchen, thinking about her kind words. Judgement and intolerance had shaped their lives for so long, it was strange and almost blinding to finally open their eyes to the realities of the world and themselves. Constance could understand where they all came from as she had been equally narrow-minded before. Like a curse being lifted, a spell being broken, they could all reveal their true selves to the world. 

The moment they pushed a small door to sneak up in one of the kitchens, Constance caught Maman’s voice mixed with Mrs Potts’ charming laughter. 

“And in the end, it was my fourth daughter who managed to find the best matches… two husbands where her sisters could not even get one? That girl knows how to reassure her old mother! I am now certain she will be safe when I’m not around anymore.”

“Oh, I get that!” Mrs Potts approved with a nod. “It must be such a relief! They are not wed, right?”

“No, but I have good hopes,” Maman added. “I need to have a word with Gaston.” 

Constance shyly walked to them and cleared her throat to make her presence known. Both older women startled and tried to find something to do to hide their embarrassment at being caught. 

“ _Ma chérie_ , oh… I didn’t hear you,” her mother blushed as Mrs Potts promptly excused herself. 

“It's alright, maman,” Constance shrugged.

She took the glass of water Mrs de Garderobe handed her, then barely noticed their hosts vanished from the kitchen to give them some much needed privacy. Constance could not hide her sorry smile, she fidgeted with the delicate glass for a moment.

“I-- I don’t know if we will ever get married, maybe… maybe not. I’d rather not have you talk with Gaston about that. It’s…” 

Eléonore nodded almost solemnly. “I just want to insure your well-being. My only concern is that you girls will be happy. What’s a mother to do besides taking care of her children?” 

Constance could not help rolling her eyes with a smirk. “Trust them knowing what’s good for themselves? Treat them like adults?”

“Fine, you’re right!” Eléonore smiled; it seemed hard for her to fight her overprotective and controlling instincts, but her daughter appreciated she actually made efforts. 

They sipped water in silence for a while. After a moment and despite all the good news and wonderful feelings of the evening, the new found affinities, the friendships and love, Constance saw on a large clock that the time to make a choice was almost there. Just like Cinderella, her fate would be sealed by midnight, and a deep sigh rose in her chest.

“What are those dark clouds in your eyes, _ma puce_?” Eléonore gently asked. 

Constance shyly looked away, locked her fingers together then worried her bottom lip between her teeth. She was not sure she wanted to talk about her dilemma with her mother and yet, the choice she had to make was too heavy a burden for only one person. She took a deep breath and, with tears in her voice, let all the story out in one take. 

She told Maman about her encounter with Agatha, the decisions she was supposed to make, the path she had reluctantly picked. She was on the verge of crying when her story was done, and yet she felt much lighter.   
Eléonore was staring at her with a mix of disgust and fear on her face. Her brow furrowed as she processed all these news, and her hands clung to her daughter’s. 

“What… what is it you want?” she finally whispered. “What do you desire, deep down your heart?” 

Constance took a second before answering, even though she already knew it. “I love them both, Maman. I love them with all my heart… and were I given the chance to get everything I wish, I would stay with them both until death do us part. But… I also want them to be happy.” 

Eléonore brushed her thumb on Constance’s cheek. “What makes you think they would not be happy with you, just the way you are?” 

“I…” Constance tried, but Maman kept talking.

“When they look at you, I see nothing but awe and admiration, my dear. They shine when you’re there like never before. Had Gaston looked only once at one of your sisters the way he looks at you, I would have seen them married in a month. And LeFou, you are his world, nothing less. What makes you think you are not precisely what they need?” 

Constance let out a sigh, almost a whine. “But… children! Gaston loves them so much!”

“Oh my sweet child,” Eléonore smiled. “You are so young, you never stepped very far from Villeneuve. There is a whole world outside our walls. In every large city, orphanages are full of miserable _gamins_ who pray every night that God sends them loving families. With his wealth and his reputation, Gaston would only need to snap his fingers to bring a dozen back home. If he has not yet, it is not because of you, and may come a time when he wants to, he would be able to do it with or without you…” 

Constance slowly blinked, as she was told of perspectives she had never even began to imagine. Gaston was in a position of deciding to build a family, she was not one to make the choice for him. She let that idea sink in for a while. So many ‘what if’, so many ‘maybe’. 

“What do think?” Maman insisted. “Would you be happier with a different body?” 

“Yes!” Constance nodded, too certain of this fact. “Maman can’t you see? No more harassment, no more insults…!”

“Absolutely,” Eléonore admitted. “I hear you, my dear. Now would you be happier with a different body but only one of your husbands?” 

Constance’s breath caught in her throat and she shook her head with a sad frown. “... you know I would not.” 

The young lady felt warm hands gently cup her face. She pondered her options in silence. 

“You are given a one of a kind opportunity, Constance,” Maman stated softly. “This is a decision you should take for yourself, not for others, as much as you love them.” 

Constance placed her hands on her mother’s. She felt an unanswered question remained and shyly looked up to her.

“And you? What do you think?” 

“I do not wish to influence your choice, this is not my role,” Eléonore shrugged. 

Constance insisted with a pout, “Tell me, please. Don’t you wish I were normal?” 

Eléonore shook her head, trying to find her words. “I may have wished it in the past, I won’t deny it. I wished for a normal child, whatever this might mean, but I saw you grow up and become an amazing person. Now as you tell me about your evening, I must confess I’m not too keen on the idea of an enchantress using her powers on my little girl. My daughter is perfect the way she is and… this perspective scares me. I’d rather she left you alone and kept her magic for someone else.” 

Constance felt her eyes water at the words “little girl”. How many times had she dreamed of hearing them! Little Stanley was just a distant memory when she was now acknowledged as a woman, a lady, a wife, a girlfriend. She bit her lower lip, then planted two enthusiastic kisses on her mother’s cheeks. 

“ _Maman, tu es la meilleure_!” she giggled. 

“So are you, ma chérie.”

Constance enjoyed the warm embrace for a while before she noticed the clock. Almost midnight. She should hurry to give Agatha her answer and more importantly, reassure Gaston and LeFou that she was not gone once again. 

Hand in hand, they both walked back to the ballroom. Constance felt nervous and anxious, yet strangely confident. Heart pounding in her chest, her palms were sweaty, her legs heavy as she entered the luxurious venue. She immediately searched for her husbands, saw them on the opposite side of the room, arms locked, in what seemed to be a deep conversation with their colleagues from the army. She only hesitated for a second before trying to reach them, for she would need their support and love, but the clock was a merciless opponent and she barely had time to take a step or two before the needles pointed at midnight. 

Mrs de Garderobe and Maestro decided it was the right time for an impromptu song, while Mrs Potts rushed to carry her sleeping son to bed. 

Constance froze as Agatha walked towards her, almost floating, like an apparition. Her strange parody of a benevolent smile was back. The enchantress gave her a polite salute as if they only were to exchange pleasantries. 

“Good evening, sweet child…” 

Constance felt once again attracted by the blur surrounding the woman, but this time she could distinctly hear the disapproving sigh Maman let out when she heard the enchantress giving her daughter such a sweet name. She took a small bow then straightened her back and put her chin up. 

“Have you made up your mind?” Agatha asked in a soft tone. “Which one of yours…”

“I choose them both,” Constance cut her with a firm tone, assertive yet courteous. “I can’t thank you enough for your offer, madame, but I will decline it.” 

Agatha’s aura seemed to tremble and shake for a second. Her eyes widened, and a flash of pure anger, rage, and hatred made her face tense. Despite her fear at the sight, Constance managed not to step back. Agatha swallowed heavily and shook her head with a hypocrite smile.

“What do you say… Stanley? Do you realize you shall never be a real girl?” she voiced a low threat, jaw locked.

Constance felt more than she saw Maman gasp, and she remembered that even though a good fight could sometimes solve problems, politeness probably remained the best option to deal with a witch. Anger boiling in her veins, she firmly shook Agatha’s hand.

“Feel, Madame, that I am a girl and I’m just as alive and tangible as anyone. This is real enough for me, I do not feel fake.” 

With a particularly elegant bow, Constance added, “Have a good night, au revoir!” 

She really hoped that would be all and she could now run back towards her husbands’ warm embrace, but a silhouette above them slowly blocked the light from the chandeliers. Constance and her tormentor both took a bow in front of the prince who stayed put, a concerned frown on his bow. Belle was by his side, looking just as troubled as her husband. 

“I did not want to overhear your conversation miladies,” Adam started. “Yet some concerning words came to my ears.” 

Constance fidgeted with the laces of her dress, wondering if she had done something wrong. After his terrible curse, Adam probably did not want anyone to upset the enchantress! 

Adam gave the older woman a severe look. “I could have sworn I heard you tell Constance she was not a real lady? That certainly could not be, not you, the woman who taught my entire court the necessity for compassion, benevolence and acceptance, isn’t it?” 

Constance’s eyes widened as the Prince calmly but firmly defied the enchantress. Agatha cleared her throat.

“My Prince, you are absolutely in the right, but we cannot deny that some laws of Nature should not be ignored and…” 

“I have known talking clocks,” Adam joked, trying to keep his tone light-hearted despite his grave mood. “I couldn't care less about the laws of Nature anymore. The only law above any other in my principality is that kindness shouldn’t know any restrictions. Haven’t we all learned that lesson the hard way?”

Agatha opened her mouth but did not manage to speak. She frowned, searching for her words. Eventually, seeing the determined look on Adam’s face, Agatha could only give a small salute and mumble a quick “My prince…” before she stormed out of the ballroom. Adam offered his forearm for Constance to hold, then took a few steps with her.

“I am so sorry you had to deal with this tonight,” he stated. 

“Yes,” Belle added. “You should have come to us, tell us she was acting in such a rude way.” 

“I… it’s alright,” Constance nodded. “We had things to discuss and I did not want to be a bother.”

Adam turned a kind look towards her. “You seem to enjoy the court, would you like to stay at the castle? We could find you a job here, and for your husbands too.” 

Constance took a quick look around at all the luxury, the baroque interiors, the fancy outfits, the shiny decors. She liked them, she loved feeling like a lady. Yet this was not what she preferred.

“I am sorry,” she shook her head, smiling at her hosts. “This is so kind of you, but I think I love way too much my provincial life. I have everything I desire in Villeneuve, there’s nothing more I could wish for.” 

Belle gave her a wide smile. “I understand, Constance. Only you know what you need the most.”

.

Her pose was anything but lady-like as their coach quickly rolled away from the castle. Constance’s chin rested on LeFou’s shoulder and she was barely awake after this rich but exhausting night. 

LeFou placed an arm around her waist, holding her ever so gently, while his lips brushed her forehead. “You may rest, sleeping beauty, we will carry you inside when we’re home.” 

“The hell we won’t!” Gaston joked. “We’ll let her sleep amongst horses, in the mud.” 

Constance snorted then let out a lazy giggle. “Is that so? You are known for treating your girl like a servant, it’s a fact…” 

Gaston swiftly got down on one knee to kiss the back of her hand with a whisper, “You know I’d rather be my lady’s servant.”

Constance gently brushed his chin, his soft cheeks. 

“Come with us,” she invited as she scooted closer to LeFou. “There’s enough room for you.”

“With that dress of yours?” Gaston mocked gently but still managed to get himself stuck between the heavy fabric cake and the coach wall. 

They remained silent for a few minutes, holding each other’s hands, stroking each other’s fingers lazily. After this exhausting night, tenderness was everything they needed. 

“Did you enjoy the party?” LeFou finally asked in a soft tone. “You were nervous about it…” 

“I loved it,” Constance admitted. “What could possibly be better than a ball with both my husbands?” 

Gaston tried to stay light-hearted but his tone was definitely more serious as he wondered, “I saw you talking to Agatha twice… was it for a particular reason, or…?” 

Constance could not help give him a teasing look. “Always the hunter, hm?” 

“Just keeping an eye on my prey, demoiselle!” Gaston said with a predatory flash of fangs. 

Constance sat straighter on the bench before she let out a heavy sigh. “Ah… I was going to tell you anyway, maybe not tonight, to process all of this, but… Agatha made me an offer. She would turn me into a real woman if I chose to keep only one of you in my life and let go of the other.” 

LeFou’s eyes widened to a comic size and his beautiful face turned as pale as the moon outside the cart. “What? Wha-- who did you pick?” 

“Mon amour, I haven’t changed a bit,” Constance grinned and gave him a tight hug to reassure him, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. “How could I ever favor one of you over the other?” 

“And what did you tell her?” Gaston asked in a somber tone. 

“That I already was a real woman whether she liked it or not,” Constance stated before she was pulled into a strong embrace.

Gaston proudly squeezed her, both relieved to hear about her answer and her self-confidence. “That’s my girl!” 

If at some point during the evening Constance had had doubts and fears, they were all swept away as they demonstrated their affection and relief with the energy of two loyal puppies. She kissed them both, loving how perfectly they all fit together. Four arms around her waist, two mouths kissing her, three hearts beating in unison. 

After a moment Gaston nuzzled her temple and confessed, “That old mule… she came to me with the same offer, a few weeks ago.” 

“Did she?” Constance frowned. 

“Yes, she had the audacity to offer me heirs, saying she could turn either you or LeFou into a woman to bear me children.” 

Constance shook her head, baffled. “What kind of insanity is that? Notre amour is not a girl!” 

“She loves to mess with people’s life and fate,” Gaston growled. “I told her to stay out of mine and never touch my husband nor my wife or she would be in trouble. That witch… she cannot bear the idea of people being happy. After all we’ve been through, I won’t be punished for loving someone.” 

“Well said!” LeFou cheered, raising his closed fist. “She has to stop trying to take over your lives and…”

His voice faded as he realized it also meant intruding in his, and controlling his life as well. 

He frowned, then added, shaking his pointed finger, “Wait! If she made you two this terrible offer, that means I might be next! Oh… she can try, let me tell you she can try! If she comes to me I’ll show her _de quel bois je me chauffe_! She shall regret even trying to get between me and you, they might call me a fool but I’m only a fool when you two kiss me! She can keep her magic for someone else, I will tell her, you can be sure of that!” 

He looked so indignant, so upset, with his righteous pout, that Constance couldn’t help a chuckle as she kissed him tenderly. “I know you will, mon amour. We do trust you.” 

Despite all of her doubts, she was happy to know both her husbands would have made the same decisions. They loved her just as she was, nothing less. She leaned her head on LeFou’s shoulder for a second, rocked by the motion of the coach. 

She did not feel herself fall asleep, nor noticed when they carried her back to their room. She barely woke up when they undressed her then slid against her in the bed, and kissed her goodnight. 

“This barn feels really cosy,” she managed to mumble to humor them one last time because a proper lady should always get the last word.


End file.
